


Any Other Way of Loving

by brandnewfashion



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Avengers, Fake Dating, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, everything is platonic until it isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5329805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandnewfashion/pseuds/brandnewfashion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve is bad at dating, Tony isn’t, and neither of them are as subtle as they think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a very overdue gift for the amazing [dailysuperhusbands](http://dailysuperhusbands.tumblr.com/) over at tumblr. I’m so sorry again for the delay, but I hope you like it. 
> 
> I want to thank [flange5](http://flange5.tumblr.com/) for giving me the idea for this fic and basically holding my hand throughout the entire process, and [trickyarchangel](http://trickyarchangel.tumblr.com/), [ravenisthegem](http://ravenisthegem.tumblr.com/) and [snoozingcat](http://snoozingcat.tumblr.com/) for being the most amazing beta readers ever.
> 
> This fic was largely inspired by the song "Someone New" by Banks. You can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_rXfpUVgSk)!

_I do not love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz_  
_or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:_  
_I love you as certain dark things are loved,_  
_Secretly, between the shadow and the soul._  
  
_I love you as the plant that does not bloom and carries_  
_hidden within itself the light of those flowers,_  
_and thanks to your love, darkly in my body_  
_lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth._  
  
_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,_  
_I love you simply, without complexities or pride:_  
_I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving_  
  
_but this, in which there is no I or you,_  
_so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,_  
_so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close._

Pablo Neruda

 

* * *

 

_“Pepper Potts was seen earlier today in the Upper East Side leaving Kleinfeld Bridal.  The CEO has been busy planning her impending nuptials to renowned environmental lawyer, Jonathan Roberts, which are expected to take place in just a couple of months.  The two met at a Maria Stark Foundation function last year after being introduced by mutual friend, and Ms. Potts’ ex, billionaire Tony Stark.”_

_“Speaking of Tony Stark: it looks like the self-proclaimed ‘playboy’ hasn’t been living up to his reputation all that much.  Stark hasn’t been involved with anyone since his breakup with Stark Industries’ CEO over two years ago, nor has he made many public appearances.”_

_“I wouldn’t say that.  He’s been photographed with his teammates and roommates often enough around the city.”_

_“Yeah, but I highly doubt Tony Stark is dating Captain Amer—”_

“Are you seriously watching this trash?”

“You know how much I love celebrity gossip,” Steve quipped, turning the page of his book.  He continued his reading, even when he felt Tony lean against the back of the couch and rest his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“ _A Short History of Nearly Everything_ ,” Tony observed. “Still trying to catch up to the modern world, I see.”  

“Bruce lent it to me.”

Tony made a sound of approval. “I won’t deny he has good taste in literature.  Don’t know if I can say the same for his wardrobe.”

Steve turned his head and found Tony’s face inches away from his.  However, he wasn’t fazed in the slightest—he had long ago grown accustomed to Tony invading his personal space. “That’s not very nice.”  

“Relax.  He already knows I’m not nice,” Tony said with a grin.  He gave Steve a casual onceover. “On the other hand, it looks like _you’ve_ learned how to clean up pretty well.  What is this, Ralph Lauren?” he asked, tugging at the collar of Steve’s t-shirt. “Are you wearing a Ralph Lauren _undershirt_ , Steve?”

“They’re comfortable,” Steve said with a shrug.  It was the truth.  Once Tony had shown him the pleasures of finer clothing, he’d realized he couldn’t go back. “Weren’t you the one who told me to indulge every now and then?”

“Yes, I was and I am _so_ glad you listened to me.  I’m sure the entire female population of New York would like to thank me too.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”  Without warning, Tony grabbed Steve’s book and tossed it to the other end of the couch.

Steve sent him the most intimidating glare he could muster. “I was reading that.” 

“Oh, relax.  You can read that in your sleep, Mr. _Greatest Tactical Mind in the World_.”

“Not the point.”

Tony ignored him and got to his feet.  “C’mon, let’s get some pizza.  I’m starving, and I’d bet good money that you are too.”

It was just Steve’s luck that his stomach chose that exact moment to growl very loudly.

“I’ll meet you downstairs in ten!” Tony sang, already on his way to the elevator. 

 

* * *

 

_“I don’t care if you’re paying for it, Tony.  I am_ not _having live doves at my wedding.”_

“Why not?”  

_“It’s tacky.”_

“Oh, c’mon, Pep,” Tony whined.  In hindsight, he probably should’ve asked Pepper before giving the wedding planner the go-ahead.  “Next thing I know, you’ll be calling that giant bunny I got you for Christmas ‘tacky.’”

_“It was_ , _”_ Pepper stated, and Tony could practically hear her rolling her eyes at him all the way from the Pacific.

“Now, that’s just hurtful.”  The doors slid open and he stepped out of the elevator and out under the fluorescents of the garage. “What about—”

_“No ice sculptures either, Tony_ ,” Pepper cut in. _“This is supposed to be a small, simple and_ classy _affair.”_

“You ruin all the fun.”  Okay, so maybe he still needed a lesson on extravagance, but this was Pepper’s wedding, and he just wanted her to have the absolute best. 

_“I try,”_ Pepper said dryly. _“Now go.  Don’t keep Steve waiting.”_

Tony paused mid-step and looked up to find Steve casually leaning against the hood of the Bugatti and jabbing away at his phone. “ _You’re_ the one who called _me_ ,” he said into the phone. “How’d you even know he was here?”

_“I have my ways,”_ Pepper said without further explanation. _“Bye, Tony.”_  

“Yeah, okay.  Bye.” Tony pocketed his phone and turned his attention to Steve. “Your fixation on this car is getting a little unhealthy,” he remarked as he approached the taller man.  

“It’s a nice car,” Steve defended as he slid his own phone into his jacket.  

“I won’t argue with that.”

“So are you evergoing to let me drive it?” 

“Not a chance, Rogers,” Tony said as they both got into the car and buckled up. “I’ve seen the way you drive.”

Steve looked affronted. “I’m a good driver.”   

“Your track record says otherwise.” Tony started up the car. “Of the two of us, who flew a plane into the ocean?”

“It was a Nazi plane and there were bombs,” Steve said indignantly. “I had no time and there was nowhere to land.”

“Your self-sacrificial streak is ridiculous,” Tony said. “You turned yourself into a capsicle and now you’re stuck here in the future with me.”

“I could think of harsher punishments than that.”

It took a surprising amount of energy for Tony not to dwell on Steve’s statement. “You’ve destroyed five motorcycles ever since we started this whole team shtick.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and how was it that he could make an action as mundane as _that_ look good? “You really wanna start talking about recklessness now?” he dared. 

“Aha!  So you _do_ admit you’re reckless,” Tony gloated.  He merged onto the street, surprised but thankful at the lack of traffic—at least they’d get to the restaurant sooner.

“Was that Pepper on the phone?” Steve asked, changing the subject.  

“Yeah, she’s on her way back from Hong Kong.”

“How is she?”

“Good,” he answered.  She hadn’t given any indication otherwise. “She’s stressing out over the wedding, but other than that, she seems okay.”

“Are you _making_ her stressed?” Steve asked pointedly.

“Now what on earth would give you that idea?”

“You’re known for your wild and crazy ideas.  I overheard you on the phone with the man from the _Cirque du Soleil_ yesterday.”

“Most people would jump at the chance to get free live entertainment like that.”

“I don’t think Pepper would fall under the category of ‘most people.’”  

Tony shrugged. “I’m just trying to help.”   

Steve regarded him carefully. “I know you are, and I’m sure she appreciates the thought, but you have to remember that it’s _her_ wedding, Tony.  Not—”

“I’m perfectly aware that this isn’t my wedding,” Tony shot back indignantly.   

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” Steve said apologetically.

“I’m not still hung up on her.”  Tony wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to say that, because it had been _ages_ since he and Pepper were romantically involved.  She had already moved on and found someone who made her happy, and Tony found a group of friends that made _him_ happier than he thought possible. “I know what everyone says about me, but I’m not.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Tony challenged.  Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that he and Steve were friends—that Steve had seen parts of Tony that no one ever had, and that Tony had _let_ him.

“I know _you_ ,” Steve said, his voice gentle.  “I know you just want the best for her—and don’t take this the wrong way—but you really need to learn when to back the fuck off.”

“I suppose I could work on that,” Tony grudgingly agreed.

Steve just smiled, not bothering to dignify Tony with a response and instead fixing his attention out the window, and the two fell into companionable silence.

Even now, Tony could be surprised at just how easily and often those silences could creep up on them. 

Admittedly, it had taken a bit of time for the two of them to finally got over their egos and actually start _listening_ to each other.  Tony still wasn’t sure how much of a part Loki had had in their very rocky start, because yes, Tony knew he thought pretty highly of himself, but even stooping so low as to actively pick a fight with anyone other than someone like Justin Hammer was very out of character for him.

He and Steve had called a truce after Loki was sent back to Asgard, but it wasn’t until after the Mandarin fiasco, and after Steve and his ragtag team burned SHIELD to the ground, that the two of them had actually spoken in person again.  Tony had visited Steve in the hospital after fishing his shield out of the Potomac and then invited him—and the other Avengers—to live in the tower, figuring that they could all try to give the whole team shtick another try, especially since there was no one there to boss them all around anymore. 

Steve had been the easiest to convince and, within a few weeks, all of the Avengers had taken residence on their assigned floors.  It wasn’t very often that they were all home at the same time since they all seemed to split their time between multiple places, but knowing _someone_ was around at any given time was still a comfort.

Steve left with Sam whenever they got a lead on the Winter Soldier’s whereabouts, sometimes taking Natasha with them, but they never came back with any luck.  Tony helped when he had time, despite Steve’s protests: they never spoke about the assassin’s likely involvement in his parents’ deaths, but if Tony could find a way to help, there was no stopping him.

It turned out that on the days that Steve was home, and Tony wasn’t working, the two of them actually got along swimmingly.

Tony hated labels because they were so black and white—and well, a little seventh grade—but if anyone asked what Steve had become to him over the course of the past year, the term “best friend” seemed the most appropriate (or “runner-up best friend,” as Rhodey playfully put it).

Up until recently, Tony had always found friends pretty hard to come by.  He’d lucked out on his first day at MIT when he’d found Rhodey was his roommate.  He wouldn’t have met Pepper if any of his first three personal assistants had been remotely competent; and if he hadn’t gotten into that bar fight in Austin over fifteen years ago, he would never have met Happy (who was kind enough to drive him to the emergency room).

But being on the Avengers had given Tony the opportunity for so much more.  They were a group of people that Tony genuinely cared about—a group of people he didn’t even _know_ were missing from his life until the night they were all moved in and Clint corralled them into the living room to watch the new _Bourne_ movie.

So Tony found poker buddies in Clint and Thor, had Bruce as his partner-in-crime in the lab, and chatted about the latest episode of _Game of Thrones_ over breakfast with Natasha.  He even found himself going to bars with people like Maria Hill and Sam Wilson.

Then there was Steve.

Tony couldn’t pinpoint when exactly Steve had become a permanent fixture in Tony’s life, but he was just glad that it had happened at all.  Steve was always around, to the point where it became rare for Tony to go through a day without seeing or hearing from him. 

He and Steve were perfect complements, constantly keeping each other in check on the battlefield and off.  They grounded each other, never afraid to knock each other down a peg or two when necessary.  He and Steve could engage in a shouting match that nearly ended in physical blows in the morning and be perfectly fine by night, lounging in the living room and laughing at absolutely nothing.  

Talking to Steve was easy.  Listening to Steve was easy.  Sharing space with Steve, eating meals with him, watching television with him, leading the team with him—it was all so second nature that Tony felt like he had been doing it his entire life.  

And if Tony had developed a silly crush on his teammate along the way, then no one but him had to know about it.

Tony initially blamed it on decades of hero-worship, but part of it could probably be attributed to the fact that Steve was ridiculously good-looking and Tony would have to be _blind_ not to see that.

He had heard stories about Steve since he was a child from his father, his Aunt Peggy, and even from the Commandos when they would accompany Howard for poker night.  Tony was thrown for a loop when he realized that Steve was everything they all said he would be.  Steve lived up to his namesake every minute of every day, and Tony found it both intimidating _and_ admirable.  

Luckily, Tony flirted like he breathed, so it was easy to dismiss his crush in front of the others.  He had ignored his feelings for Pepper for over ten years before they got together, and despite the rocky romantic aspect of their relationship, they were okay now.

It didn’t take long for Tony to suppress his feelings—to bury them so deep down inside of himself that he had forgotten what it was like to think of Steve as anything other than his friend.

There was no way in hell that Tony would jeopardize his friendship with Steve over something so insignificant as a _crush_. 

 

* * *

 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were starving,” Steve remarked, watching Tony finish his second slice of pizza while Steve had barely started on his first.  He debated making a comment about having manners at the table, but in truth, Steve was glad that Tony was eating at all.

The man had a hard time taking care of himself, but it wasn’t by any means deliberate.  Tony just got so wrapped up in his own genius that he’d sometimes forget to perform basic human functions like eating and sleeping, but he had been doing better ever since Steve and the team made themselves his personal alarm clocks.

“We should get milkshakes after this,” Tony suggested.

“If you can _move_ after this.”

Tony just took another bite of his pizza.  Some sauce dripped onto his chin, and Steve stifled a laugh, thinking of what the press would say if they saw the self-proclaimed genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist in such a state.

“What’s so funny?” Tony asked.

“You’ve got sauce in your mustache.”

Tony’s eyes widened comically before grabbing a handful of napkins and dabbing at his mouth. “Better?”

Steve nodded. “Good as new.”

“Did everything come out okay?” their waitress— _Nicole_ , according to the name sewn onto her apron—asked.

“Everything’s great,” Tony replied. “But I was wondering if I could get another drink?”

“Of course!” She then turned her full attention to Steve. “And what about you, hon’?” she asked sweetly, her hand brushing against his shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”

Steve politely shook his head. “No, thank you.”

It may have just been a trick of light, but the smile on her face seemed to falter momentarily. “Alrighty, then.  I’ll be right back with your Coke,” she said to Tony before walking away.

The old man at the table next to them gave Steve a disapproving look. “Moron,” he muttered. “Why didn’t ya get her number?”  

“Wait, what?” Steve glanced between the man and their waitress before settling his confused gaze on Tony. “What just happened?”

“Our waitress was blatantly flirting with you, and you didn’t flirt back,” Tony informed as he inspected a piece of pepperoni on his pizza.

“She was?”

Tony looked at him dubiously. “She was what?”

“Flirting?”

“Yeah.” Tony put his food down. “Wait, are you telling me you couldn’t tell she was flirting with you?”

“No?”

“What?” Tony sputtered. “She was batting her eyelashes at you and everything!”

Steve must have really been out of it to not notice _that_. 

“Wha—Do you really—You go on dates all the time!  How the hell could you not know—”

Steve shrugged. “To be fair, most of the dates I’ve been on were set up by other people.”

“What about that guy last week?” Tony asked. “What was his name, Adam?  Andrew?”

“Alex,” Steve corrected. “And that was a blind date too.  Courtesy of Sam.”

“Didn’t work out?”

Steve fidgeted in his seat. “Not… exactly?  We went out again the other night but… he kind of bailed.”

Tony raised a brow. “ _Kind of_ bailed?”

“He made up some excuse after a while and left,” Steve explained.  He had actually thought they were getting along pretty well, so it was disappointing when Alex never called again as he had promised.  “It just… got really awkward? I don’t know, but I couldn’t blame him.”

“Unbelievable,” Tony muttered.  

“What?”

“You’re just wasting those good looks of yours, Rogers.  You could literally get anyone to date you.”

That was a nice sentiment, but one that Steve didn’t think was very likely.  His terrible streak of dates over the past year were testament to that.  “I’m not looking to just date _anyone_.”

“I know that, but you still should go out and meet people.  You can’t just sit around, waiting for the right person to come along,” Tony reasoned. “It doesn’t work like that anymore—”

“You don’t think I know that?” Steve immediately regretted his outburst when Tony visibly shrunk in his seat. “I’m sorry.  I just… I’ve been trying, but it’s hard.”

Tony twirled the straw in his glass. “No one ever said it was easy.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve muttered. “I can barely flirt—let alone tell when anyone is flirting with _me_.  Natasha, Sam and Clint have been on my case as it is.”

“I don’t think you’ve learned the meaning of ‘persistence’ until your buddy calls you while flying in a weaponized suit of armor to tell you about someone he met at a _Senate hearing_ who would be absolutely perfect for you.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Jim did that?”

Tony nodded. “Multiple times.  The man’s insisting I get back out there.”

Steve smiled in response, but even he knew that it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  

The month following his break up with Pepper had been a particularly trying time: for Tony, Steve, and all of the team.  Steve had initially found out about Tony’s palladium poisoning from Natasha, albeit accidentally.  It wasn’t until after Steve had moved into the tower—after a late night conversation with Tony himself—that Steve had found out the severity of the entire situation.  When Tony and Pepper finally broke up, Steve hadn’t known what to expect, so he’d braced himself for the worst.  

Tony, however, had never sought solace from a bottle, instead choosing to immerse himself in his work.

Steve had lost count of how many times he’d found Tony passed out in his lab from pure exhaustion. 

The lack of care for his own personal being culminated about six weeks after the break up when Tony insisted he was well enough to suit up for the battle, when in reality, he had been going on over sixty hours without sleep.  A slight miscalculation landed Natasha in the emergency room with a mild concussion, an injury that would have been much worse had Thor not swooped in and carried her off to safety.

Steve had sought out Tony in his bedroom later that night to have a talk with him, and instead found the guilt-ridden engineer sitting on his bedroom floor with a tumbler in his hand.

He wasn’t drunk, but he was definitely getting there.  What had scared Steve the most, however, was how _defeated_ Tony had looked. 

Steve had gently pried the glass from Tony’s hand before enveloping the man in his arms, letting him cry into his shirt.

Never in the two years that they’d known each other had Tony ever shown any signs of uncertainty, but that night, Steve’s heart had broken when he had heard Tony’s sobs of _what am I even good for?_

Steve had camped out on the couch in the room after tucking Tony into his bed, keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t get sick.  Tony had apologized profusely for his behavior the next morning, too embarrassed to even look Steve in the eye.  Steve had assured him that it was all right, making Tony promise to find him if he ever needed to let his frustrations out.

Tony had gotten rid of every ounce of liquor in his suite and stayed clear of the stash on the common floor.  He began to work less, ate and slept normally, and spent more time with the team. 

They’d never had a repeat of that night, but Tony _did_ live up to his promise to Steve and came to him whenever he needed to talk, and eventually, Steve found himself doing the same thing.  

For two people who appeared to be no more than polar opposites, they’d both shared very similar life experiences, and Steve figured that’s what made it so easy for them to just… _talk_.

“Maybe, it…” Steve started to say, but he shook his head.

Tony looked at Steve curiously. “Maybe what?”

“Never mind,” Steve insisted. “Forget I said anything.”

“Out with it, Rogers,” Tony ordered.

“I’m just thinking… he may have a point?” Steve ventured carefully, not wanting to push Tony too far. “Maybe it _is_ time for you to get out there…”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but their waitress chose that moment to return to their table.

“Here’s your Coke,” she announced, placing the drink in front of Tony. “Do y’all need anything else, or should I just bring the check?”

“Just the check is fine,” Tony said easily. “But I wouldn’t mind getting another one of those thousand-watt smiles you’ve got there,” he added.

“Sure thing, fellas,” she said, her cheeks rosy red, no doubt from Tony’s comment. “I’ll be right back.”

“See?” Tony said, turning to Steve once she was out of earshot. “That wasn’t difficult, was it?  I’m sure you’re capable of doing the same thing.”

“I highly doubt that.” Steve reached for another slice of pizza, leaving the slice with more pepperoni on it for Tony.

“C’mon, Rogers,” Tony badgered. “Have a little faith.  Flirting is easy.  Anyone can learn it.”

Steve snorted. “Why don’t you teach me, then?”

“Fine.”

Steve paused, the pizza halfway to his mouth.  He eyed Tony skeptically. “What?” he asked, unsure if he had heard right.

“I said I’ll help you,” Tony clarified. “Flirting, dating… whatever.”

Okay, so he _had_ heard correctly. “I was—Tony, I was _kidding_ —”

“I wasn’t,” Tony replied. “Look, you’re right—you _and_ Rhodey.  It’s probably well past time for me to start dating again, and Odin knows how much help _you_ need.  This could help me get back into the swing of things.”

“You… you’re serious?”

“I figure it’s a win/win situation,” Tony said nonchalantly. “Although I’m still failing to see how someone like you can be bad at dating.”

“Talking to people has never been my strong suit, Tony.”

Tony sat back and appraised him. “You seem to be doing just fine.”

“It’s _you_ ,” Steve pointed out. “You’re one of my best friends; of course it’s easy for me to talk to you.  But back in my day, any occasion where I opened my mouth usually ended with me getting my ass kicked all the way to Queens.”

“And the ladies?”

“No self-respecting da— _woman_ ,” he amended, “No one wanted to talk to some little guy like me.”

“Peggy Carter did.”

That certainly wasn’t the response Steve was expecting.  Steve knew that Tony had met Peggy a few times when he was younger, but he had never explicitly mentioned her in front of Steve before.  “Peggy wasn’t like everyone else.”  

“Then everyone else was an idiot,” Tony said, point blank. “I saw pictures of you from before Project Rebirth.  You were fucking _adorable_.”

Steve was mortified when he realized he was blushing.  As far as Steve knew, Tony lacked a brain-to-mouth filter and said whatever was on his mind.  Steve had gotten used to it, having learned when to take Tony seriously, but comments like that could still throw him for a loop . “Twelve-year-olds are adorable,” he mumbled. 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “Whatever.  The point is: you were a looker _before_ the serum, big shot,” he said, clapping him on the back. “You’ve even got a winning personality to boot.  Anyone would’ve been lucky to have you then, and they’d be lucky to have you now.”

Tony sounded so sincere—so different from the usual sarcasm and witticisms that he normally spoke, and Steve didn’t know how to handle it.

So Steve did what any other person would’ve done in his situation: avoided eye contact.

“Aw, no need for that, Cap.  I’m just telling it like it is,” Tony said before taking another bite of his pizza. “You’ve got the whole package,” he said with his mouth half-full.  It was kind of endearing, which Steve found strange. “So you’ve just gotta make it work.”

“Now you’re Tim Gunn all of a sudden?”

“You need to cut back on the _Project Runway_ ,” Tony said, picking off a piece of pepperoni and popping it into his mouth. “Here, I’ll give you your first dating tip: pizzerias are not ideal first date locations.  Yes, pizza is wonderful and delicious and basically the food of the gods, but getting sauce and grease all over your face is not the best way to make a first impression.”

 

* * *

 

Upon returning to the tower, Tony and Steve parted ways and went back to their respective suites. 

Tony wasted no time in stripping down and stepping into the shower that JARVIS had prepared for him.  He didn’t realize how much he had been working lately until he felt his muscles start to relax under the hot water. 

He braced himself against the slippery tile and let the water sluice over his back as a million thoughts ran through his head.

Okay, so Tony could admit that deciding to help Steve was a _little_ impulsive, but he was a man of his word, and he was going to follow through with it.

However, he wasskeptical as to how to go about the process.  It wasn’t as if he had been very active in the dating pool himself: he and Pepper didn’t exactly get together under conventional circumstances, and none of his relationships before that didn’t exactly end well.

Tony was good at charming people.  He knew how to win them over and grab their attention long enough to get them into bed with him.

But _dating_ them?  Tony was disappointed to realize that while he had more knowledge about the subject than Steve did, he didn’t have much practice.

“JARVIS, when was the last time I went out on a date?” Tony asked as he lathered his hair with shampoo.  It was getting a little long; maybe it was time for a cut.

_“Twenty minutes ago, sir,”_ JARVIS responded.

Tony paused. “Excuse me?”

_“According to the dictionary’s definition of the word, you and Captain Rogers just engaged in one earlier this evening.”_

Huh.  Interesting.  

Tony rinsed his hair and then grabbed a bar of soap off the shelf and began to scrub down his body.  

“Who was my last relationship before Pepper?”

_“Ms. Whitney Frost in 2006.”_

“I… don’t think a drunken weekend getaway in Palm Springs counts as a relationship,” Tony remarked.   “Did I date anyone for longer than… I dunno, a month?”

_“You were romantically involved with Kathy Dare for three months in 2004, and Tiberius Stone for almost six months in 1999.”_

_That_ certainly explained why Tony didn’t do relationships. 

Based on his track record, Tony was surprised he and Pepper lasted as long as they did, and that’s what scared him the most.  Pepper was definitely not like any of the people that Tony had previously dated, and for a while, he had honestly thought they would last.

They had worked well together until they didn’t, and that day, Tony had gone home to find Pepper sitting on their bed, her suitcases already packed.  She’d apologized, kissed him on the cheek, and left for the airport.  Tony had seen it coming, of course, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.  He couldn’t even step foot on their floor, having since converted it into a state of the art gym, and instead taking up residence in one of the suites on the floor above.

Yes, the break-up had been painful, but Tony knew when to let go.  He wanted Pepper to be happy, and if he couldn’t give her that, then he wanted to give her the freedom to find it.

The problem was: if Tony couldn’t make it work with _Pepper_ , then who else was there?

Tony rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist before returning to his bedroom.  He rifled through one of his drawers for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  He slipped them on and dried off his hair, before grabbing his tablet and walking down the hall to Steve’s room.

“Steve?” Tony called out, poking his head in the room.

_“I’ll be out in a minute,”_ Steve responded from the en suite.

Tony let himself in, the door closing behind him with a soft _click_.  He padded over to the bed and settled himself on top of the covers.  Turning on his tablet, he got to work. 

By the time Steve emerged from the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of threadbare pajama pants, Tony had already compiled a list of potential date locations in the city. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, flopping down on the bed next to Tony.  

“Making reservations.”

“What for?”

“Us,” Tony replied. “How do you feel about Thai food for dinner tomorrow?”

“How could you possibly be thinking about dinner?” Steve said dubiously. “We _just_ ate.”

“You want help with dating, don’t you?  JARVIS is helping me come up with a list of the most romantic restaurants in the city.”

“How long is this list exactly?” Steve asked, glancing over Tony’s shoulder.

“Twenty-one… and counting,” Tony added. “Let’s just say you’re booked solid for the next month.”

“A _month_?”

“Maybe two months,” Tony corrected.

“Is that necessary?”

“You’re not gonna learn everything overnight,” Tony replied, which was the truth.  What Tony neglected to mention was that he needed that time to relearn the basics himself.

Steve settled back against the headboard. “Look, I appreciate what you’re doing for me, Tony, but what if we picked this up tomorrow?” he suggested. “I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of beat.”

“I guess we can resume planning in the morning,” Tony relented, placing his tablet on the nightstand. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure, but I can’t promise how much of it I’ll actually get to watch.”

“That’s fair.” Tony made himself more comfortable, leaning against Steve’s side. “J, put on whatever is next on Steve’s Netflix queue, would you?”

_“Certainly._ Legally Blonde _will start playing now.”_


	2. Chapter 2

“Good morning, beloved.”

“You’re awfully chipper this morning,” Steve observed when he entered the kitchen.  Tony was standing next to the stove, wearing the [_Iron Chef_ apron](http://coloradomoms.com/wp-content/uploads/iron-chef.jpg) that Clint had gotten him for Christmas last year, and whistling to himself as he flipped pancakes into the air.  There wasn’t anyone on the team who wasn’t genuinely shocked to find out that Tony was actually a pretty decent cook.

“I had a good night’s sleep,” Tony replied.  He turned off the stove, removing the sizzling bacon in the pan and transferring it to a plate.

“I bet,” Steve said, stealing a slice and devouring half of it in one bite. “You took up the entire bed.”

Tony frowned. “You could’ve kicked me out.”

“And risk you biting my head off for waking you up?” Steve said with a scoff.  He’d done that once, and Tony hadn’t spoken to him for a day. “No thanks.”

“I’m not that—Okay, maybe I am that bad,” Tony amended.

“You are.”  

“You’re like a giant octopus when _you_ sleep, so you have no right to talk.”

“Where do you expect me to put my limbs if you insist on sleeping like a starfish?” Steve countered.  His face immediately reddened at the outburst. “Uh…”

Tony waved him off. “J said no one’s home, so you can freak out about _sleeping with me_ later.”

“We didn’t—” Steve scowled when Tony smirked at him. “Shut up.”  

“Where is everyone anyway?” Tony asked. “I know Bruce is away visiting Betty, but I haven’t seen anyone all weekend.”

“Natasha and Clint have been on a mission since Thursday,” Steve informed.  

Tony looks at him imploringly. “What missions could they possibly have without SHIELD on their asses every day?”

Steve grabbed a couple plates from the cupboard and some silverware from the drawer before setting them on the counter. “I try not to ask any questions.”

“That’s probably smart,” Tony agreed. “What about Sam and Thor?”

“Sam went down to DC for the weekend, and Thor was visiting Jane, but he should be back anytime now.”  

“Oh, great  Now I have to make _more_ food.” 

“You’re exaggerating.”

“ _You_ don’t see the grocery bill every month,” Tony refuted.

“Touché, so thank you for buying the food _and_ for cooking,” Steve said, ushering Tony to one of the barstools. “Now sit your ass down and enjoy it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Tony said, dismissing the comment, but Steve could see the smallest hint of a smile on his face.

“Coffee?” Steve offered, already on his way to the coffee maker.

“What kind of question is that?”

Steve grabbed Tony’s mug from the cupboard: [the black and yellow piece of ceramic with the cat](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/f8/63/5b/f8635b1ce5cc7ff5f3ffcf160c22bc36.jpg) that Steve had given him for his birthday over two years ago, before they were even really _friends_.  Steve had been on his grand motorcycle tour of the country when he saw the mug in a gift shop.  To this day, he still couldn’t pinpoint why the mug reminded him of Tony.  Nonetheless, Steve had felt compelled to buy it and had shipped it from the nearest post office.   

The design on the mug was starting to fade now, and there was a small chip in the handle, but Tony always insisted on using it.

Steve fixed Tony’s coffee the way he liked it—a splash of milk and two sugars—and poured a cup for himself before sitting next to Tony at the counter.  They both piled their plates with pancakes and bacon and eggs and immediately began to dig in.

After a few minutes, Tony cleared his throat: “So…”

Steve looked up from almost demolished plate of pancakes. “Yes?”

“Just between us… you _have_ , uh…” Tony trailed off.

Steve looked at him quizzically.  “I’ve what?”

“Done… y’know…”

“No, Tony.  I really don’t.”

Tony hesitated for a moment before making a very lewd gesture with his hands.  

“Of course, I have!” Steve hissed, just narrowly avoiding choking on a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t know if I had to give you any advice on _that_ , too,” Tony reasoned. “I’d be more than happy to provide you with some books.  I know sex education in the 40’s wasn’t as good as it is now.  I mean, not that it’s that great _now_ —it’s quite terrible actually—but it’s marginally better than before—”

“I know how sex works, Tony.”

Tony tipped his head. “Even with a guy?  You’re still into guys, too, right?”

“Yes,” Steve replied.

“…Is that in response to the first question?  Or the second?”

Steve felt his right eye twitch.  He wasn’t ashamed about his sexual proclivities by any means, but he had never been the type to broadcast anything about his personal life. “Both of them.”

“Okay,” Tony said, nodding. “That’s great.  That’s… good.  Just remember that there’s _always_ time for lu—”

“ _Tony!_ ”

Tony put his hand up to shush him. “Just hear me out, Steve.  Can you really tell me that you’re performing to your true potential?”

“Considering _they’re_ usually the ones th—” Steve stopped himself. “Is this really an appropriate conversation to be having over breakfast?” he asked exasperatedly.

“So talking about cock rings over dinner is appropriate?” Tony countered.

“That’s not—I wasn’t—That was _one_ time!” Steve exclaimed, scandalized.  He couldn’t remember how that particular conversation had come to be, but it had happened on of the first nights the team had been together.  Steve had accidentally opened a link in a spam e-mail he had received, and the team had never let him live it down.

Steve put his head on the counter, refusing to give Tony the satisfaction of the blush slowly spreading over his cheeks.  Tony had mentioned to Steve on multiple occasions that making Captain America flustered was one of his favorite pastimes.

“I’m asking legitimate questions,” Tony pressed on. “Besides, we’re the only ones here.  All I’m saying is if I’m going to be helping you, I need to know all I can.”

Tony had a point.  In fact, the more they talked about it, the more Steve was in favor of the entire arrangement.  Steve had tried following the advice from everyone else, but what they offered wasn’t advice so much as it was feeding him to the sharks.

Steve barely knew the art of romance seventy years ago, so he didn’t know why everyone seemed to think he’d know it _now_.

Steve’s most successful relationship had been with Sharon.  Admittedly, he enjoyed getting to know her over the course of the few months they dated, but it didn’t take long for them both to realize that their respective jobs had to come first.  Their split, although amicable, was still a little disappointing—especially since finding someone with shared life experience was so hard to come by.

At least he had his friends (who hit on other people _for_ him and left books on sexuality in the modern world in places Steve would easily find them).

“Yes, I’ve had sex _during this century_ ,” Steve added before Tony could make a smart comment. “And no, I don’t have performance issues.  I asked you for dating advice, not—”

“How did you ever manage to have sex if you’re so bad at dating?” Tony questioned.

Steve shrugged. “Sex doesn’t require talking.”

“…right,” Tony said.  Steve didn’t know why he didn’t sound the least bit convinced.  Tony had met a few of his past dates—hell, Tony had even met a few of them over breakfast the next morning.  What did he _think_ they did all night?

“So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Steve asked, hoping to shift the topic away from his bed-partners.  He poured a liberal amount of maple syrup onto his last pancake, ignoring the disgusted look on Tony’s face. 

“We have reservations at _Ai Fiori_ at seven.”

“I thought we were getting Thai food?”

“Tomorrow,” Tony informed. “We’re going to _Aura_.” 

“Is _every_ restaurant going to be that… um, pricey?” Steve inquired. “I can’t even afford living on my own, much less taking someone to these fancy places every night.”

“Oh, so is that the only reason why you’re living here?” Tony joked. “In that case, there will be a rent increase effective tomorrow.”

“Very funny.”

“Yeah, I’d never do that.  I’m perfectly fine with giving you all a place to live and building awesome toys for you at no cost, y’know.  It’s cool,” Tony said, grinning ear to ear. “You’re lucky I’m a billionaire.”

“ _I’m_ not,” Steve pointed out.  

“Right.  I probably should’ve factored that in,” Tony admitted sheepishly. “I’ll rework the schedule later.”

 

* * *

 

Tony was scribbling notes on the schematics for his newest armor when Steve entered the room and dropped down on the couch next to him.

“So…” Steve drawled, his arm resting behind Tony’s shoulders. “Do you come here often?”

Tony put down his tablet and then grabbed the nearest cushion, throwing it at Steve’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me, Rogers?”

“I was joking—”

Tony hit him with the cushion again.

“I don’t care if you were kidding or not because that was still pathetic,” he said, ignoring Steve’s sigh. “Just shut up and start over.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you want to go to the movies with me?”

Tony put down his soldering iron and took off his goggles. “What?”

Steve shifted his weight. “A movie?  I was wondering if you wanted to see a movie with me.”

“Are you asking me out?  Because you shouldn’t ask someone out when they’re only giving you forty percent of their attention _at best_ ,” Tony said.

“I’ve been down here for almost an hour,” Steve said, a little irritated. “And we’ve been holding a conversation for the past fifteen minutes.”

“We have?”

“Yes, Tony.”

“Oh.”  Tony surveyed the mess around him. “JARVIS, how long have I been down here?”

 _“Eight hours and thirteen minutes,”_ JARVIS supplied. 

“You’re getting on my case for working eight hours straight?  That’s a far cry from the worst I’ve ever done,” Tony pointed out, even as he began to close out of his projects. “Isn’t the typical work day nine hours or something like that?”

“The typical work day involves a break every now and then too,” Steve chided. “Besides, just because this is far from your worst doesn’t mean I won’t worry.  I know you’re important and have a million and five things to do, but you still need to take care of yourself.”

“I can take care of myself.  I got by before you, didn’t I?  Shut your mouth, J,” Tony added.  

“Before me, you had Pepper and Rhodey,” Steve countered. “And when none of us are around, you have JARVIS.”

 _“I appreciate the acknowledgement, Captain,”_ JARVIS chimed in. 

Tony glared at the nearest camera in the ceiling. “I _built_ you, so I think that still counts as me being able to take care of myself.”

 _“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sir.”_  

Tony shook his head. “Sometimes I question why I programmed you to have so much sass.”

 _“I will refrain from answering that,”_ the A.I. quipped.

“Gee, thanks.”  Tony turned his attention back to Steve, who was now sitting on the floor playing with Dum-E. “You said something about a movie?”

“If you’re interested,” Steve said, sounding a little unsure.  

“Doesn’t sound like a very solid date invitation, Rogers,” Tony chided.

“What am I supposed to do, then?”

“I’m not saying the innocent forties schoolboy charm isn’t adorable—because it most _definitely_ is—but you have to sound more confident,” Tony explained.  

“How am I supposed to do that when I’m _not_ ,” Steve said incredulously.  

“Then lie,” Tony said simply. “Keep doing it, and hopefully, one day, you’ll actually believe it.” He nudged Steve’s shoulder. “I meant what I said before: _anyone_ would be lucky to date you.”

“Thanks,” Steve replied with a shy smile.

Tony suddenly felt suffocated—the air in the room too thick and difficult to breathe in.  He looked away from Steve’s gaze, busying himself with putting away his tools.

“We should probably get going if we don’t want to get stuck in line.  Everyone and their mother is probably at the movies this weekend,” Tony said, already making his way to the elevator.  He heard Steve bid goodbye to his bots before getting to his feet and wordlessly following Tony out of the lab. 

 

* * *

 

Steve tripped over his own feet in his rush to get to open the door.

Tony looked at him strangely. “What are you doing?”

“Opening the door for you?”

“You might want to practice doing that without looking like a fool,” Tony said, walking past him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.    

Tony shook his head. “How you managed to smooth-talk _anyone_ into going to bed with you, I’ll never know.”  

“Shut up, Tony.”

 

* * *

 

Their movie date ended up being cut short because Doctor Doom decided it was a perfect night for sending out his army of Doombots to terrorize the citizens of New York. 

Frankly, Tony was pissed, because he had been looking forward to finally seeing the new _Fast and Furious_ movie (he didn’t care what Steve said about them because they were cinematic masterpieces), and he was even more pissed that the Fantastic Four were off exploring in another dimension, but all of the trouble was worth seeing a sweaty, half-naked Steve standing amidst the rubble in Hell’s Kitchen.

Tony didn’t know if the Doombots had some sort of personal vendetta against Steve’s clothes that night, but he really couldn’t give a damn with Steve’s perfect physique staring him in the face.  

“Okay, I take back my earlier statement,” Tony said, his eyes raking over Steve’s body appreciatively.  

“Shut _up_ , Tony.”

 

* * *

 

Their first few “dates” went smoothly.

As smoothly as Tony thought they could be for him and Steve, anyways.

He had rented out the entire restaurant for their first date, an action that somehow inspired Steve to give a five-minute lecture on extravagance and being wasteful.  The man probably would’ve rambled on for much longer if Tony hadn’t told the owner to open up the dining room to other patrons.

By the second date, it became glaringly obvious that Steve didn’t do well under pressure: Tony had merely asked Steve to talk about himself, and he became terribly flustered.  Steve had somehow managed to trip their waiter, which caused the man to drop the salads he was carrying onto Tony’s head. 

On their fourth date, Tony made Steve ask _him_ questions.  They managed some small talk, but by the time the appetizers came around, Steve was having a more difficult time keeping the conversation going.  After some gentle coaching, they got the conversation back on track in time for their entrees.

The morning after their fifth date, Tony walked into the kitchen only to get a newspaper unceremoniously thrown at his face.  Just as he was about to chew out Clint for the rude wake up call, Bruce walked in and handed Tony yet _another_ newspaper.  Both papers had pictures of Steve and Tony from the night before with headlines suggesting that their relationship was anything but platonic.

Tony had only had a few minutes to freak out before Steve appeared, freshly showered after his morning run.  Steve took out his cell phone and slid it across the counter so it was in Tony’s line of view, and there, on the screen, was a very eloquent tweet on Steve’s page that calmly and effectively dismissed all of the dating rumors.

Maybe Steve had yet to learn how to wine and dine someone, but somewhere along the line, he had certainly learned how to embrace being a public icon. 

…which was probably why it wasn’t difficult to go out in public with Steve.

All of Tony’s life, he had been under intense scrutiny from his father, from Stane, from the media, and even from SHIELD.  Even now, it was near impossible for Tony to go out for a cup of coffee without being recognized and asked for an autograph, or getting his photo taken without permission. Steve, however, took it all in stride, paying absolutely no mind to others’ stares. 

Perhaps that was why Tony enjoyed spending time with him so much: everyone else that Tony had dated (or in this case, “fake dated”) was either put off by the attention, or was using Tony for it.

But now, as they walked the crowded city streets, Steve’s attention was zeroed in on Tony and Tony alone.

“I can’t believe you made us go out tonight,” Tony said (and most definitely did _not_ whine). “It’s fucking freezing.  I thought it was supposed to be spring?”

“It’s the middle of March, Tony.  Most people still elect to bring a coat,” Steve replied.

“You barely gave me enough time to get showered and dressed, let alone bring a jacket.” 

Steve merely rolled his eyes and shrugged his navy blue jacket off his shoulders and held it out in Tony’s line of sight.

“No,” Tony said grumpily. “You stop that right now.  I don’t want y—”

“Just shut up and take the damn thing already,” Steve interjected, ignoring the other man’s protests and draping it over his shoulders. 

“I’m not an invalid,” Tony muttered.  He continued his bitching even as he slipped his arms through the sleeves to better protect himself from the wind—he hated seeing the smug smile on Steve’s face whenever the man was right about anything. “Thank you, by the way.”

“It’s just a jacket.”

“I meant for tonight,” Tony clarified. “I haven’t been to a Broadway show since I was a kid.”

“I know.”

Tony peered at him curiously.  “How did you know?”

“I was running out of new music to listen to, so I asked JARVIS for the names of your favorite albums,” Steve explained. “Did you know that you’ve listened to the _RENT_ soundtrack over two hundred times?”

“That can’t be right—”  

“JARVIS doesn’t lie, Tony,” Steve said, sounding a little too pleased for Tony’s liking. “Anyway, I asked him if you had seen any musicals lately, and he said you haven’t been to the theatre since you were a teenager.”

“Yeah, my mom and I saw _The King and I_ in 1985,” Tony answered, understanding why Steve had taken him to see the revival tonight.

Steve smiled. “It uh… it must’ve been a real treat to see Yul Brynner on stage.”

Tony nodded, glad for the diversion. “Yeah, it was pretty great, but the theatrics tonight were incredible.  Kelli O’Hara was fantastic.”

Steve slid his hands into his pockets. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, then.”

“Very much.” Tony shivered when another strong gust of wind blew past them. “Are you sure you aren’t cold?”

“I’m fine,” Steve assured, leaning close enough that his breath tickled Tony’s ear. “Besides, I have you to warm me up, don’t I?” he crooned.

Tony gaped, pausing mid-step. “Was that—were you _hitting on me_ , Rogers?”

“Maybe?” Steve said hesitantly. “Was it that bad?”

“N-no,” Tony stammered, suddenly feeling warm all over for reasons that had to do with more than just Steve’s proximity. “It’s fine.  You did fine.”

“Oh,” Steve said, the frown on his face morphing into a grin. “Good.”  He spun on his heel and resumed walking, quietly whistling the tune to [_I Have Dreamed_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1gUEhI_72I).

Tony felt an icy chill deep in his bones the moment Steve stepped out of his space.  It was a realization hitting him like a freight train, consuming him like the soft cologne that clung to the leather of Steve’s jacket.

He was in love with Steve.

Well, fuck.

 

* * *

 

“I have fought against the Chitauri and faced an entire army of frost giants,” Thor said gravely. “I have looked Death in the eye more times than I could count, but never in my life have I ever encountered anything as terrible as this.”

“We live three blocks away from Times Square,” Steve said. “How have you managed to avoid this place for over a year?”

Thor looked at him dubiously. “I fly.”

“Right.  I forgot about that little detail.”  Steve surveyed their surroundings. “I know most New Yorkers tend to avoid Times Square like the plague—hell, Tony would probably face off against the Mandarin again before coming here—but I’ve never minded it that much.”

“Was it always like this?” Thor asked, gesturing at the billboards and neon signs.

“More or less,” Steve answered. “Everyone’s always so surprised that I haven’t gone into shock or something, but it isn’t all that different.”

“You truly are an admirable man, Steve Rogers,” Thor observed.

“Oh.  Um… thanks, I guess.”

Thor clapped him on the back. “Don’t be so humble, friend,” he said kindly. “Tony is a very lucky man.”

“Tha—Wait, what?!” Steve exclaimed, getting the attention of some passersby.  He tipped his baseball cap to better obscure his face and lowered his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Tony are romantically involved, are you not?” Thor asked.

“Not!” Steve said vehemently. “We are _not_.  What on earth would make you think that?”

“You two have been stepping out together for quite some time now, and Natasha mentioned something about—”

“I don’t know what crap Natasha’s been telling you, but Tony and I are not together.”

Thor looked at him quizzically. “Are you sure?”

“I think I, of all people, would know if I was dating Tony Stark.”

 

* * *

 

Steve came awake slowly, groggy and disoriented.  It took him a few long minutes to process that he was in his own room, and that he was no longer wearing his dirty, bloodied uniform.  He tried sitting up, but fell back on the bed when he felt a sharp pain his side.

“You’re an idiot.”

Steve turned over to find Natasha sitting on the edge of his bed. “Things may not have gone as I had planned,” he admitted.

“You think?” Natasha said sarcastically, crossing her arms. “Tony’s going to kill you.”

Steve forced himself into a sitting position, albeit much slower this time.  He shivered a little when the sheets pooled at his waist, exposing his bare chest to the chilly air-conditioning.  He delicately poked at the bandaging on his torso, hiding a wince when he found the stab wound. “I’m fine,” he gritted out. 

“You weren’t a few hours ago,” she said, obviously displeased. “Thor had to carry you out because Tony was too shaken up when he found yo—”

He was interrupted by a knock on his door, and Clint poked his head in a moment later. “Oh, good.  You’re finally awake,” he said by way of greeting.  He flopped down on the bed next to Natasha and looked at him pointedly. “Stark’s going to kill you.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Steve said wryly.

“You’re quote-unquote _fine_ because Dr. Cho happened to be in town,” Natasha disputed.

“I feel—”

“If you say ‘fine’ one more time, Steve, I swear I will strangle you,” she promised. “You were out for a good twelve hours.” 

“I’ve had worse,” Steve mumbled.

“I know,” Natasha said with a grimace. “It isn’t exactly the most comforting statement.”

“He wasn’t that bad…” Clint said, earning him a punch in the arm from Natasha. “What?  He’s alive, isn’t?”

“What actually happened to me?” Steve asked. “I remember getting hit with—”

“A sword?” Clint finished.  “Yeah.  Cliché, I know.  Luckily, it wasn’t too deep, and with your serum, Banner and Cho are convinced you’ll be back in fighting shape in just a couple days.”

“You got hit in the head pretty hard though,” Natasha said, carefully brushing the hair away from Steve’s forehead. “We couldn’t get to you on the comm.  Tony practically tore apart every drone with his bare hands to get to you.”

“Oh.” Steve looked down at his lap. “How is he?”

“Better than yesterday,” Natasha replied, her eyes much softer than before. “He’s in his lab, if you wanna see him.”

“Why would I want to see him?” Steve asked, even as he pulled the sheets off of his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  Was he really that predictable?

“Rhetorical or not, that’s probably the dumbest question I’ve ever heard,” Clint commented, making Natasha snicker.

Steve frowned. “Why is that?”

“He’s talking about the fact that you two have been doing an awful job at hiding your little secret,” Natasha supplied. 

Steve grabbed a t-shirt from the pile of clean clothes on his chair and slipped it on. “What secret?”

“Natasha’s right.  You’re a terrible liar.”

“I seriously have no idea what you guys are talking about.”  

Natasha stole a glance at Clint before asking: “You guys _are_ dating, aren’t you?”

“Who?”

“You and Tony.”

“No…?” Steve said slowly. “Does this have anything to do with whatever you told Thor?” he added.

Clint looked at Natasha quizzically. “What did you tell Thor?”

“The same thing I told you,” she replied before settling her gaze back on Steve. “If you and Tony aren’t dating, then what _have_ you two been doing?”  

“Helping each other _with_ dating,” Steve said.

“I don’t understand.”

“We’ve been giving each other pointers.”

“Pointers? On dating?” Natasha questioned.  Her brow furrowed when Steve nodded. “Why would you ask Stark for dating tips when we’ve been trying to help you—”

“I don’t think setting me up on a blind date with a girl who is barely legal constitutes as trying to help me,” Steve said.  Why they had thought he would have anything in common with a behavioral neuroscience student, he had no idea.

“Julia is a very sweet girl,” Clint defended. “And she’s twenty-two!  You know that you aren’t _actually_ ninety-six, right?”

“I still don’t understand why you ever thought that was a good idea,” Natasha muttered under her breath.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Well, maybe you’d be able to contribute more to the effort if you weren’t so busy batting your eyelashes at Wilson all the time.”

Steve wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of light, but he could have sworn that Natasha actually _blushed_.  He loved when Natasha lost her cool—reveled in it, really—but the last thing he wanted to do at the moment was deal with their petty squabbles.

“You shut your mouth, Barton,” Natasha snapped. “Maybe if you—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Steve interjected. “Here’s a crazy idea: what if we all just butted out of each other’s love lives?”

“Aw, what are we supposed to do all day then?” Clint whined.

“I don’t know.  Volunteer?  Learn a hobby?  Do something— _anything_ —that makes you a more productive member of society?” Steve retorted. “I know you two mean well, but you guys weren’t listening when I was telling you what was and wasn’t working for me.”

“And Tony knows what works for you?” Natasha probed.

“Yes, actually.  Tony’s been giving me some very helpful advice, and I’ve just been helping him try to get back out there,” Steve explained.

Clint’s face looked like a mix between frustration and disappointment. “So you two really aren’t an item?” he asked.

Steve shook his head. “I wouldn’t hide something like that from you guys, especially if it could affect the team.”

“That’s… fair,” Natasha said, but she didn’t sound very sure of herself.

“But you _will_ tell us if you go on an actual date with someone,” Clint said.

“Since it apparently means that much to you, I will,” Steve promised.  He opened his door to exit the room, but walked directly into Thor’s broad chest instead.  

“Steve!” Thor greeted jovially. “I’m glad to see you are doing well so soon after our unfortunate encounter with the Wrecking Crew.  I’m sure Tony will—”

“What?” Steve snorted. “Kill me?”

Thor blinked. “I was going to say ‘be ecstatic about your rapid recovery,’ but yes, he will probably do that too.” 

 

* * *

 

_“Sir, you have an incoming call from Ms. Potts.”_

“Accept,” Tony commanded.  He fell back in his chair just as Pepper’s face materialized on a hologram. “Hey, Pep.  What’s wrong?”

Pepper furrowed her brow. _“What makes you think something’s wrong?”_

“You have that look,” Tony remarked.

 _“Nothing’s_ wrong _.  Can’t I call to check in on you?”_

Tony scrutinized her. “Natasha called you.”

 _“Bruce,”_ Pepper admitted with a sigh. _“He left a message this afternoon, but I couldn’t get to it until just now.  How’s Steve?”_

“Fine,” Tony replied, absently moving a few random objects on his desk. “At least that’s what Bruce said.”

_“You don’t believe them?”_

“No, I do.  It’s just…” Tony fell silent.

_“Tony?”_

“He’s reckless, Pep,” Tony said. “He never takes care of himself, always sacrificing himself for everyone else and thinking about their needs before his own and—”

 _“Sounds a lot like someone I know,”_ Pepper mused.  

“This is different.”

_“Why?”_

“It just is.”  

 _“Look,”_ Pepper said levelly, _“It was hard watching you go out fighting bad guys every night, so I know how it must feel for you.  It isn’t easy seeing someone get hurt, let alone someone you love, but you two had to have known that before you started dating.”_

That immediately got Tony’s attention. “Dating?!” he exclaimed. “Steve and I aren’t dating!”

 _“You aren’t?”_ Pepper asked, genuinely confused.

“No!” Tony answered firmly. “What could have possibly given you that idea in the first place?”

_“According to Natasha and Maria, you two spend every waking moment together.”_

“So you three _do_ gossip behind my back,” Tony said with an accusatory tone.

 _“They said you two have gone out every night for the past_ month _.”_

“I’m just helping him out,” Tony defended. “He wanted some dating tips, so I offered my services.  Besides, weren’t you and Rhodey telling me to get back out there?   He’s helping me do that.”

Pepper looked unconvinced. _“That’s all?”_

“That’s all.” Tony leaned back in his chair. “So how’s Jonathan?”

 _“Stop deflecting,”_ Pepper said sternly. _“You’re telling me that you and Steve aren’t involved in any way?”_

“Nope.”

_“But you have feelings for him.”_

“Of course, not,” Tony lied through his teeth. “That’s a ridiculous notion and, quite frankly, a terrible idea.”

 _“And you’re a terrible liar,”_ Pepper countered. _“I’m assuming he doesn’t know?”_

Tony pointedly looked away from the video feed. “No.”

_“Does anyone know?”_

Tony rubbed his temples. “I’m trying to focus all of my energy on _not_ letting anyone catch on.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. _“You’re obviously doing a wonderful job at that, considering they all think you two are already together.”_  

“Well, we’re not.”

_“You should just ask him out.”_

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t _you_ the one who’s supposed to give the sound advice?”

 _“First of all, I am,”_ Pepper stated. _“Second, that was perfectly good advice.”_

“You’re telling me to ask _Captain America_ out on a date.”

_“I’m telling you to stop living in denial and tell Steve how you feel.”_

Tony shook his head.  She made it sound so easy—as if Tony wasn’t putting his friendship with Steve on the line. “I can’t do that, Pep.”

_“Why not?”_

“Because he isn’t interested in me.”

_“Did he ever say that?  Did he explicitly tell you that he isn’t interested in a romantic relationship with you?”_

“Not… exactly?  But let’s say he was—and he _isn’t_ —I couldn’t risk it,” Tony said. “I… I couldn’t live with myself if I fucked it up.  We save the world on a bi-weekly basis, and if anything happened to the team because of me—”

 _“That won’t happen,”_ Pepper interjected. _“You would never let anything like that come between you.”_

“But—”

 _“If you say anything about you ‘ruining our relationship,’ I’ll tell everyone—including your bots—to give you decaffeinated coffee from now on,”_ Pepper warned

Tony slumped in his chair.

 _“It wasn’t your fault,”_ Pepper continued, her tone much softer than just a moment ago. _“I don’t know if there will ever come a time where I say it and you believe me, but I’ll keep saying it for as long as you need to hear it.  Just because it didn’t work out between us doesn’t mean it won’t ever work out with someone else.  You’ll find them, I promise.  Maybe it’s Steve, maybe it isn’t, but you won’t know until you_ try _.”_

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know.  What if—”

 _“Speak of the devil.”_ Pepper looked at something over Tony’s shoulder and beamed. _“Hello, Steve.”_  

Tony spun around in his chair and lo and behold, the man in question was there.  Tony was eternally grateful to see that the color had returned to Steve’s face.  “Should you be up?” Tony asked, getting to his feet.

 _“We were just talking about you,”_ Pepper cut in. _“Looks like you’re feeling better.”_

“Much,” Steve replied with an easy smile. “How are you, Pepper?”

_“Oh, just fine.  I actually have to run though.  Late meeting—you know how busy things are around this time.”_

Steve nodded. “Of course.  We should get lunch the next time you’re in town.”  And wasn’t that just _great_?  The last thing Tony needed was for Pepper to start scheming.

 _“I’d love that.”_ Pepper turned her attention back to Tony. _“As for you: all I ask is that you_ consider _taking my advice.”_

Tony nodded wordlessly.

Pepper smiled. _“Great.  I’ll talk to you soon.”_   She bid a quick farewell to them both before the call disconnected.

“Why aren’t you resting? You’re going to pull your stitches or… or something,” Tony said, his voice lacking any heat.  He wanted to be angry, but in truth, he was just exhausted from worrying over the other man. 

“I was just out cold for twelve hours, and asleep for a good seventy years before that, I think I’ve had enough rest for a while,” Steve said lightly.  

“You always use that excuse,” Tony said, turning his back.  He brought up a few holograms wrote a few bullshit equations just to keep his hands busy.   

“It’s a valid one,” Steve shot back. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.  I’m tired and cranky because I’ve made myself exhausted worrying over you.”

“You didn’t have to—”

Something inside of Tony snapped and he turned on his heel, pointing a finger at Steve. “How _dare_ you tell me not to worry about you.  You’re one of my best friends, Steve, of course I can’t help _but_ worry about you, especially since you seem to have an affinity for jumping out of planes and facing off against armies of drones by yourself.”

“You aren’t much better,” Steve mumbled under his breath.   

“At least _I_ have a suit of armor,” Tony shot back. “Which reminds me: as soon as you’re one-hundred percent better, we’re going to work on your suit.  There’s gotta be a way to make it stab-resistant.”

Steve crossed his arms. “I’m not agreeing to anything that would slow my movement on the field, y’know that.”

“What about—”

“ _And_ I’m not letting you build me a suit of armor,” Steve interjected. “I like my suit just fine.”

“At least let me take another look at it.  I promise not to make any changes without your permission.”

“Fine, but only if you get some rest first,” Steve conceded. “You look like hell.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tony retorted. “You won’t heal any faster if you don’t sleep.”

“And you won’t be doing any of us any favors by overworking yourself,” Steve said. “C’mon, you look like you need the rest more than I do.”  

“I’m not the one who got stabbed,” Tony said with a scowl on his face.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Steve said, his lips curved into a teasing smile.  

“Yeah, okay,” Tony grumbled, admittedly too tired to continue the senseless arguing. “Shut the lights when we leave, J?”

 _“Of course, sir,”_ JARVIS replied as they stepped into the elevator.

Neither of them said anything for the duration of the ride to their floor, or as they walked into Steve’s room and got into bed.

He desperately wanted to sleep, and he was grateful that Steve understood his need for contact.  After the team had moved into the tower, and after he and Pepper had broken things off, Tony had confessed to Steve that it was almost impossible for him to sleep when he was ridden with anxiety.  It had only gotten worse ever since the team was first assembled—their line of work wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, especially since they had to bear the burden of the earth’s security on their shoulders every day.

One night, Tony had been awakened from his fitful sleep by Steve’s own nightmarish screams next door.  Tony had gone to comfort the man, and the next thing he knew, he’d found himself waking up in Steve’s bed the next morning—his mind and body relaxed from the first full night of sleep he had had in months.

Maybe it was the comfort of knowing someone else was there: someone who understood exactly what Tony was going through.  Steve never made a big deal out of it, and Tony knew it wasn’t unheard of to want some physical contact after having such traumatic nightmares (he wouldn’t have been surprised if Natasha and Clint did the same thing).

However, Tony wasn’t used to being so open with anyone—much less someone he could barely call a friend at that point.

Regardless of the reason, it hadn’t taken long for it to become a normal occurrence. 

Tony was almost positive the team didn’t know since the rest of them lived on other floors, which was perfectly fine since there was absolutely no need to publicize their unconventional arrangement. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly in the darkness of the room. “For scaring you like that.”

“It’s not your fault,” Tony replied, his exhaustion evident in his voice. “I know we should be used to situations like this by now, but I can’t.” He turned on his side to face the other man. “I can’t not worry about losing the few friends I have.”

“I know.”  Steve was silent for a moment before adding: “Sometimes I can’t believe this is the kind of life I have, but I’m just glad you guys are in it.”

Tony had to agree: he didn’t know how long he would’ve lasted in the superhero business if he didn’t have the rest of the team at his side.  The last thing Tony wanted was to go back to those days when he worked alone.   

_You would never let anything like that come between you._

Pepper’s words echoed in his head, and he had to admit that she was right.  Tony knew that if anything transpired between him and Steve—or any other members of the team, for that matter—they would never let it affect how they worked together on the field.

But could the same thing be said about their home life?

He and Pepper had promised to stay friends after their break-up, but to this day, there was still a disconnect between the two of them, regardless of how hard they tried to bridge that gap.    

“Something on your mind?”

Tony didn’t even realize how lost he was in his own thoughts until he saw the look of concern etched on Steve’s face. 

“It isn’t important,” Tony replied.

Steve looked unconvinced, but Tony was thankful that he didn’t pry any further. “All right, then.  Good night, Tony.”

“Night, Steve.”

Tony knew that Pepper had a point, but this was _Steve_ they were talking about, and he couldn’t risk losing him.


	3. Chapter 3

“Steve!”

Steve looked up from his drawing to see Tony walking towards his table.  His suit jacket was unbuttoned, and his tie haphazardly stuffed into the front pocket.  Upon closer inspection, Steve noticed the dark circles under his eyes, but the man was still smiling.

“Sorry I’m late,” Tony greeted as he took a seat across from him.  He pocketed his sunglasses and then stole Steve’s coffee, grimacing at the bittersweet taste of the dark roast.  Steve didn’t understand why people couldn’t just appreciate the taste of a good, black cup of coffee, but he pushed the sugar bowl in Tony’s direction anyway.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said. “I know you didn’t exactly come here for a vacation.”  The invitation had come out of left-field—going to Paris together wasn’t exactly normal, not for two friends anyway—but Tony hadn’t wanted to go alone, and the team had assured Steve over and over that they could take care of things on their end for a week.

“But you’re supposed to be having a fun time gallivanting around the city; not waiting around for me to finish with my meetings every day.”  He stirred in a couple spoons of sugar before finishing the coffee in one long gulp.

“I’ve been having a good time,” Steve defended. “I went to the _Louvre_ today while you were busy schmoozing with old businessmen.”

“How fun,” Tony remarked as he picked at the other half of Steve’s sandwich.

“I figured it was the perfect opportunity to go, since you wouldn’t know fine art if it hit you in the face.”  

“I like art,” Tony said indignantly. “I have an art collection worth millions of dollars.”

“ _Pepper_ has an art collection worth millions of dollars,” Steve corrected.  

“It’s my money.”

“She curated it.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, so I don’t know anything about art.  What of it?”

“That’s why I didn’t take you,” Steve explained. “I figured we could find something to do that we’d _both_ enjoy.”

“Oh.  That… sounds good.  Great, actually.”  Tony leaned forward in his seat, resting his chin on his hand. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“The gardens are right around the corner,” Steve suggested, getting to his feet. “I thought some greenery might be a nice change of pace from the cement and concrete we usually see.”

“Alrighty then.” Tony stood from his seat and linked his arm through Steve’s. “Lead the way, Captain.”

Tony appeared to be enthusiastic, but Steve was afraid that the man was anything but.  He wanted Tony to have a genuinely good time—not to be bored out of his mind.  Steve had learned a lot about dating over the course of the past couple of months, but he had also learned quite a bit about Tony himself.

Of course, Steve knew that Tony was an outgoing and eccentric person, but over the past eight weeks, Steve had realized that Tony enjoyed other, simpler things too. 

As much as Tony loved to spoil his friends, the man usually preferred a night in to a big, fancy dinner.  He had a favorite blanket—it was a faded blue color that had been handwoven by his mother, Maria.  He couldn’t make omelets, but he could make veal parmesan with homemade tomato sauce.  He put an absurd amount of milk and sugar in his coffee, and watched soap operas in his spare time (Steve had only found out that little detail after walking in on Tony muttering something in Spanish just as a girl on the television was pushed down the stairs).

But as much as Steve already knew about the man, there was still a lot to find out.

Steve was a bundle of nerves as they headed for the gardens, and upon arriving, Steve was afraid that he had made a terrible mistake, if Tony’s yawn was any indication.  However, Steve had an idea when he saw the yearning look on Tony’s face as they walked by the children playing by the pond.

“Sailboats?” Tony said when Steve came back from the rental stand.

“Those kids looked like they were having fun,” Steve remarked, handing one of the toy boats to Tony. “Besides, I know how much you love looking like a tourist.”

“Very funny.”

After a couple of failed attempts, they managed to keep their boats upright in the water.  Tony was uncharacteristically silent as he watched the boats sail across the pond.  

“Are you okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Tony replied, his gaze still fixated on the boats. “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I did this.”

“Sailed a boat?”

“No, just… _played_.”

Steve looked at him sympathetically. “You never did things like this when you were younger?”

“Howard didn’t like it.  He said it was for children.”

 _Of course he did_ , Steve wanted to say, but he bit his tongue.  Howard hadn’t been a bad person when Steve knew him—a bit of an ass sometimes, but then again, who wasn’t?  But learning about this entirely different side of Howard and the kind of person he had become to neglect his own child—to neglect someone as wonderful as _Tony_ —still burned him up.

“What did you do, then?” Steve asked.

Tony shrugged. “Built circuit boards?  I don’t know.  I’ve learned to just kind of block out my childhood entirely.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said sincerely.

“My mom would take me to the beach sometimes,” Tony recalled. “And Jarvis took me to the carnival once or twice, but then I was shipped off to boarding school and there really wasn’t any time for things like that.  Sometimes I forget how much I missed out on as a kid.”

“It’s never too late,” Steve reminded him.

“Yeah, I know.” Tony looked back at him. “This was a great idea, by the way.  Thank you.”

Steve ducked his head, suddenly feeling exposed under Tony’s gaze. “You’re welcome.”

 

* * *

 

“Of course we get caught in the middle of a downpour,” Tony muttered.  He tied the belt of his robe and grabbed a towel off the rack to dry his hair.  

“At least our hotel was nearby.”  

Tony stepped out of the en suite and found Steve sprawled on the king-sized bed in a matching hotel bathrobe robe.  “If I get pneumonia, I’m blaming you.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve replied, not even bothering to look up from the television.

“My suit is ruined.”

“What happened to being a genius- _billionaire_ -playboy-philanthropist?”

“That was before I decided to take all of you in,” Tony said, throwing the damp towel at Steve’s head and scowling when Steve caught it easily. “Do you know how much property damage a team of superheroes can do?”

“I saw some of the expense reports, so I think I have an idea,” Steve said. “ _I’ll_ buy you a new suit if it’s really that big of a deal.”

“You couldn’t afford me,” Tony retorted, taking a seat next to Steve.  

“You’re probably right.” Steve sat up and muted the television. “I want to thank you again for inviting me out here.  I don’t think I’ve ever travelled anywhere that wasn’t under the pretense of work… and the presidential suite is very nice,” he added.  

“I feel like I should be thanking you,” Tony replied.

Steve looked at him strangely. “Why?”

“These trips can get a little lonely,” Tony admitted.  He took a seat on the bed. “It’s nice to have the company on my downtime.”

“Weren’t you were able to find um, company in the past?”

“What are you insinuating, Rogers?”

Steve’s face turned bright red. “Nothing!  I wasn’t—”

“Hey, calm down.  I was just kidding,” Tony said with a chuckle.

“I didn’t mean anything _bad_ by it.  I meant that you could be out there right now with anyone you wanted, so I don’t understand why you’re wasting your time helping _me_ ,” Steve explained.

“Maybe I think you’re worth it,” Tony said sincerely. “You’re my friend, and I want you to be happy.”

“I’d be happier if you went out a bit more.  You’re supposed to be getting something out of this arrangement too, remember?  I don’t want to be the one holding you back—”

“You aren’t holding me back from doing anything,” Tony assured.  “I’m just not ready, that’s all.”

“Really?”

Tony gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’m not going to say I don’t miss going out and meeting new people.  I do.  _Sometimes_ ,” he admitted. “There were a couple people after Pepper, but it…  I don’t know.  It didn’t feel right going out with someone I barely knew, let alone be intimate with them. 

“I know my reputation often precedes me—and why wouldn’t it?  I was a jerk for most of my adult life, but I’m not that kind of guy anymore, and I—” Tony paused. “This conversation should really be going the other way.”

Steve looked at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Steve.  Between the two of us, _you_ could have anyone you want.  The reason why the media dismissed those dating rumors so quickly is because they didn’t believe that you would stoop so low as to date someone like me.”

“Why do you always say things like that?”  

“Because it’s the truth,” Tony said.

“You’ve said before that anyone would want to date me, but do you have any idea how _amazing_ you are, Tony?  You’re handsome, intelligent and funny, and you always put others before yourself.  You do everything in your power to try to make the world a better place.” Steve reached over, tilting Tony’s chin so Tony had no choice but to look him in the eye. “ _I’m_ the one who should feel privileged for spending time with _you_.”

Tony swallowed thickly. “Be careful, Cap, or someone might start taking those rumors seriously.”

“It wouldn’t be the craziest thing to happen to us this week,” Steve said, his voice barely a whisper.  He was looking at Tony expectantly, his eyes searching as if he were trying to gaze into the darkest corners of Tony’s mind, and Tony had never felt so vulnerable before, so exposed and so _raw_. 

His breath caught in his throat at the realization that Steve was asking for _permission_ , to go ahead and take whatever Tony was willing to give him.  

Tony didn’t know who moved first, but it really didn’t matter, because the only thing that mattered at that moment was the fact that he was somehow kissing Steve.

…and Steve was kissing him _back_.  

The first press of their lips together was like a shock of lightning that Tony could feel to his very bones, the first touch of Steve’s fingers on Tony’s skin firing up every nerve in his body.  His entire body was thrumming with energy, and he felt like his heart could beat out of his chest at any moment. 

Of course, Tony had had plenty of experience kissing others—he’d also had plenty of experience having _sex_ with others—but this one simple kiss with Steve was so novel and made all of his past experience seem laughably inadequate.  Tony had kissed plenty of people in his lifetime, an act practically second-nature to him, but with Steve, Tony could barely keep up.   

It was then that Tony realized nothing could have _ever_ prepared him for Steve.

The kiss had started out innocently enough, but then Tony raised his hand to clutch at Steve’s robe and draw him closer, and it seemed that was all the permission Steve needed to deepen it.  One of Steve’s hands settled on Tony’s waist while the other cupped Tony’s face, gently urging him to tilt his head.  Tony obliged, barely registering that Steve had pulled away before the man slotted their mouths together again.

Tony tried to give as good as he got, but Steve’s tongue was deadly.  Steve was taking and taking and _taking._ He was laying claim to Tony’s mouth and coaxing sounds out of him that Tony didn’t even know he was capable of making.

Tony desperately wanted to continue, but he also really needed to _breathe_ , and so he reluctantly pulled away.  While trying to catch his breath, he got a good look at Steve, pleased to see that the other man was just as winded as he was.  His pupils were blown with lust, his hair in disarray, and his lips swollen from their kiss.  Steve’s robe was also practically useless, the tie having come undone in the middle of their frantic lip lock leaving him shamelessly exposed.

It only spurred another wave of arousal to course through Tony’s veins.

“Is this actually happening?” Tony asked after his lungs started working properly again.  

“I guess that depends,” Steve replied, scratching his throat.  

“On what?”

“Do you _want_ it to?”

Tony knew this was a bad idea, but he ignored the little voice in his head telling him to stop.  It had been a long time for Tony, and Steve was _offering_.  Maybe it was the romanticism of the city, or maybe it was just the fact that the two of them were sitting on a hotel bed together wearing next to nothing—but Tony recognized an opportunity when he saw one, and he knew this could be his first and final chance with Steve.

Tony climbed onto Steve’s lap, pressing his hardening cock against Steve’s own. “What do you think?” he asked huskily before leaning forward and kissing Steve again.

Steve’s hands cupped his ass and pulled him closer, and Tony groaned into Steve’s mouth at the sudden friction.  Steve took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue plunging into Tony’s mouth and leaving him a writhing, wanton mess on Steve’s lap.  They quickly helped rid each other of their robes, discarding the offending material on the floor.  Tony grabbed hold of Steve’s wrists, pinning them to the bed as he kissed his way from Steve’s jawline to his neck.  

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve gasped when Tony’s teeth scraped against his collarbone. 

It was exhilarating having Steve under him—the man could easily overpower Tony, and yet he let himself be at Tony’s mercy without question.  

Tony let go of Steve’s wrists and moved off his lap, settling himself between Steve’s legs.  He kept one hand on Steve’s hip while the other wrapped around the base of Steve’s cock, guiding it into his mouth.

Steve’s cock was a heavy and welcome weight on Tony’s tongue—the feel of it in his mouth, the knowledge that this was _real_ , was intoxicating.  He relaxed his mouth, taking Steve as far down as he could go. 

He started a slow and steady rhythm that left Steve a shaking mess under him, the tension from trying to keep himself under control evident in every muscle in his body.

It had been a while since Tony had been with a woman, and even longer since he’d been with a _man_ , so he was admittedly little rusty.  However, judging from the little needy gasps Steve was making, he was doing a fairly decent job.

“I’m close,” Steve said, his voice strained.  “Tony, don’t—”

Tony pulled off abruptly, lips slick and red. “Why?  You can go again, can’t you?”

“That’s not the— _fuck_ ,” he cursed when Tony put his mouth on him again, tongue curling around the head.

It only took another minute before Steve came down Tony’s throat, one hand clutching the cover beneath him and other grasping lightly at Tony’s hair.  Tony hummed around him gently as Steve rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, stroking his thumb over the jut of Steve’s hip.  He had barely gotten Steve’s cock out of his mouth before Steve pulled him up for a kiss.

Steve urged him on his back, and before Tony could process what was going on, Steve swallowed him down with little effort.

Tony had gotten so used to the quiet and easily flustered Steve he had been “dating” that he only ever assumed he’d be the same way in the bedroom.

Never in a million years did he think Steve would be like this—so brazen and sensual and just downright _filthy_. 

Steve was doing absolutely sinful things with his tongue that made Tony want to buck up into the warm, wet heat of Steve’s mouth. 

He tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair, gently urging him back up.

“Not good?” Steve rasped.  He looked absolutely debauched, and it took all of Tony’s willpower to not come right then and there.

Tony shook his head. “Too good,” he replied. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.  Not all of us were blessed with a super-soldier sex drive.”

“Do you have anything?”

“No,” Tony said apologetically. “I wasn’t exactly planning for anything like this to happen.”

Steve thought for a moment before moving off the bed entirely and disappearing into the bathroom.

“There’s gotta be oil or something in this hotel room we can use…” Tony heard Steve say.  There was some shuffling and the opening and closing of drawers, and when Steve re-emerged from the bathroom with a bottle of lubricant and a pack of condoms in hand, Tony could only gape—it suddenly made a lot more sense why the two women from housekeeping that Tony had run into that morning were giggling so uncontrollably.  

Steve climbed back on the bed, dropping the items on the duvet.  Tony sat up against the headboard and picked up the string of foil wrappers, scrutinizing the packaging. “You can’t get anything, right?” Tony asked.

“No…” Steve said anxiously. “I just thought you’d want… I mean, we’ve never—Safety first, right?”

The wiser choice would’ve been to let Steve use a damn condom.  The fact that they were doing this at all was already hitting so close to home, and the last thing Tony should do was get more attached than he already was, but Tony wanted him.

Tony wanted _all_ of him—even if it was just for one night. 

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time anyone accused him of being a masochist.

Tony reached forward, taking Steve’s hand in his and lacing their fingers together. “I’d rather without it, if that’s okay with you,” he said.

Steve looked like the wind had been knocked out of him. “You’re sure?  I don’t want you to feel like—”

“I’m sure, Steve,” Tony replied, “but don’t do it just because I’m asking you to.”

“No, it’s… That’s more than okay.  Whatever you want.  I trust you,” Steve said breathlessly.  He leaned forward, capturing Tony’s lips in another kiss.  “How do you want to do this?”

“Hm?” Tony was still too dazed from the kiss to think properly.  He opened his eyes—he didn’t even know when he had closed them in the first place—and saw that Steve was blushing.

Steve had had Tony’s cock in his mouth and blown him within an inch of his life not five minutes ago and now he was _blushing_.

“Are you asking if I want to top?” Tony asked, sitting up to rest his weight on his elbows.  He got a nod from Steve in response. “I think you should take this one.  You’ve already killed me with that mouth of yours; I don’t know how much good I’ll do on top tonight.”

“Okay.” Steve traced Tony’s jawline with his thumb before leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Okay, I’ve got you.”

It was a harmless act, but at that moment, it felt more intimate than two people who were just friends had any right to be.

Tony fell back on the bed and brought his knees up in anticipation as Steve uncapped the bottle.  It wasn’t long before Tony felt something warm and slick rub against his entrance.

“ _Steve_ ,” Tony groaned.  Steve just kissed him quiet before slipping his finger inside.

Tony relaxed his body and welcomed the intrusion.  Steve’s slow, languid movements were excruciating, and Tony was debating the merits of whether or not to tell Steve to hurry up the pace when Steve’s finger brushed against his prostate.

Tony’s hips jerked off the bed, and Steve continued massaging the little bundle of nerves as he stretched Tony carefully, but efficiently.  The pleasure was so immense that he didn’t even notice Steve add another finger.

Tony groaned at the burning stretch. “How are you so good at this?”

“I’ve learned a couple things over the years.”

“I don’t see when you had the time considering you were asleep for almost seventy of them,” Tony quipped.

“Hilarious,” Steve responded dryly, deliberately pressing on the bundle of nerves that made Tony see stars.

“Okay, this is amazing.  You’re amazing.  I’m never going to assume anything about you ever again,” Tony gasped. “Another?  I can take another.”

Tony wasn’t the type to lie: it was no secret that he had gotten around when he was younger, but none of those experiences could have ever prepared him for this.  The onslaught of sensation he got from Steve’s fingers alone was almost too much to bear, but he still wanted _more_.

“Steve,” he pleaded. “I need—”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Steve promised, wrapping Tony’s legs around his waist. 

Tony whined when Steve withdrew his fingers, but he didn’t have much time to mourn the loss because Steve’s cock was easing inside him instead.  His head fell back onto the pillows as Steve continued to push forward at an agonizingly slow pace.  It seemed like hours before Tony finally felt Steve bottom out, his hips flush against Tony’s ass.

Steve pressed a kiss to the hollow of Tony’s throat, his shoulders shaking under the strain of staying still so Tony could accommodate his size. 

“God, you feel incredible,” Steve groaned.  He lifted his head to look Tony in the eye. “Are you okay?”

“I’m very okay,” Tony assured.  “Can you—I wanna kiss you.”

Steve obeyed, crashing their lips together in a kiss that had none of the finesse their first kiss had.  This one was all teeth and tongue and left Tony’s head spinning.

Tony felt Steve’s hips move away inch by inch, leaving Tony feeling empty where Steve had once filled him.  Steve didn’t stop moving until the head of his cock caught at Tony’s entrance.  Tony broke away from their kiss, crying out when Steve suddenly surged forward.

The feeling of Steve filling him up again and again was illuminating—each slide never feeling like enough, but simultaneously being too much for him to take. 

Steve gradually sped up his thrusts until the room was filled with the sounds of their breathing and the skin-on-skin slap of sex.  All Tony could do was try his best to hold on as Steve continued to take him apart.  His hands roamed over Steve’s arms, his shoulders, sliding across Steve’s chest and down his backside urging his movements.

Steve bit down on Tony’s collarbone, and the contrast of the pain with the pleasure building inside of Tony’s gut was all he needed to reach his climax and spill all over his belly.  Between Steve’s relentless pace, and the friction of his own cock between their bodies, he was surprised he’d lasted as long as he had. 

It took a while for Tony to come down from his high, and when he did, he realized that Steve had stopped moving.  The man was carding his fingers through Tony’s hair and peppering kisses along his jaw, murmuring praises into Tony’s skin.

“Are you—”

“Keep going,” Tony pleaded.  He wanted Steve to come and to know that he had been the reason for Steve’s pleasure. “Still feels good.”

Steve sat back on his heels and lifted Tony’s legs onto his shoulders.  His hands came to rest on Tony’s ass before he started fucking into him again.   

“Fuck, Tony,” Steve grunted. “Do you have any idea how you feel right now?” 

Tony gripped the sheets as Steve set a punishing pace, riding him good and hard.  Tony could feel something deep in him stir, and he muttered a curse when he realized that his cock was hardening again.

Steve must have noticed his predicament too, because he took one hand off of Tony’s rear and took hold of Tony’s length, stroking it in time with his thrusts.  Tony met Steve halfway on every thrust, clenching down on Steve’s cock.

Steve slammed into him one last time and bottomed out, shouting Tony’s name as he spent himself inside of Tony’s body.  He pumped Tony’s cock a few more times, circling his hips until Tony came again, his vision whiting out. 

Tony didn’t realize he had dozed off until he came awake when a warm, damp towel came into contact with his stomach.  He opened his eyes and saw Steve cleaning up the mess on his body.

“Thanks,” Tony mumbled.

Steve smiled in response and chastely kissed him on the mouth before finishing up his task.  He discarded the towel on the floor before getting back in the bed and pulling the sheets over them. 

Tony felt Steve’s arm slide around his waist and tug him closer, and he willingly fell back into the embrace.

He went back to sleep with the feeling of Steve’s lips ghosting along his neck.

 

* * *

 

The first thought that came to Steve’s mind when he woke up was that he was warm.

His second thought was that he wasn’t alone.

Steve couldn’t help but smile when he saw Tony’s sleeping face next to him.  The man looked so peaceful—so unlike how Steve normally saw him, bogged down with stress and the weight of the world’s security on his shoulders.  Even when Tony was in a more relaxed environment, Steve could tell that he still had a million things running through his mind.

The sheets were bunched at Tony’s waist, and Steve watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, still deep in sleep.  Tony’s head burrowed further into the pillows, letting Steve catch a glimpse at the purplish bruise he left on Tony’s neck.  Steve probably should’ve felt bad—the mark was going to be hell to cover up, especially for business functions—but he loved seeing his mark on Tony’s neck as if Tony was… _his_.

Steve felt himself blush as the memories of last night came flooding back.  Nothing could have prepared Steve for that night: kissing Tony, touching him, holding him, being inside him… It was unlike any other night Steve had ever had, and he was sure the image of Tony coming apart underneath him would be forever ingrained in his memory.

Steve got off the bed, moving carefully so as not to wake Tony—the man barely slept enough as it was, and he was probably even more tired after last night.

He shut the bathroom door behind him and flicked the light switch on.  He leaned over the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror.  His hair was a mess and there was a trail of nearly healed bruises on his neck.  He looked like someone who had a _really_ good night.

Steve started up the shower and went over to the sink to brush his teeth as he waited for the water to heat up.

It was strange thinking about the development of his relationship with Tony, especially when one considered the fact that they could barely stand being in the same room when they had first met.  But now, they were friends who had movie nights and went out to dinner together and _slept in the same bed_ —Steve was belatedly realizing how bizarre that particular detail would probably seem to others and was glad the others didn’t know about it… At least, he _hoped_ they didn’t know about it.  (Then again, he couldn’t really hope for much when he lived with two spies, especially with one who never knew when to shut his mouth, and another who was an incurable gossip.) 

But over the course of the past two months—maybe even longer—Steve realized that he had been falling for Tony.  _Hard_. 

Steve’s ministrations slowed before stopping entirely, the hand holding his toothbrush frozen in midair.

He was in love with Tony, and there was no denying it now.

In hindsight, Steve should’ve seen it coming: the gradual progression of their grudging respect to genuine like to… whatever they were now that felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

At first, Steve had been surprised by how well they got along.  He had been so intimidated by Tony because the man was the embodiment of the future.  Steve didn’t know how he could compare to someone like Tony Stark, but Tony seemed to value his opinions on things all the same.

Still, Steve didn’t know why Tony chose to spend so much of his free time with him.  Steve was certainly smarter than most others, but by no means was he a genius; he was often stubborn and stuck in his old ways; he wasn’t nearly as charismatic as Tony was, instead choosing to keep to himself most of the time.  They were opposites in almost every way, and yet…

Maybe Tony _was_ interested in him.

Steve pushed the thought in the far back recess of his mind—the last thing he should do was get his hopes up.

He spit into the sink and rinsed out of his mouth before stepping into the shower.  He washed himself quickly and efficiently, drying off with a towel before hastily wrapping it around his waist and leaving the en suite.

Steve found Tony looking out the expansive window of their room with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a room service cart piled high with breakfast food next to him.  His dark, sleep rumpled hair was a sharp contrast from the fluffy, white bathrobe he had tied around his waist.

“Good morning,” Steve greeted.

“Morning,” Tony replied, giving him a timid smile. “I got us breakfast.”

“I see that.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Steve had the sudden urge to take the three steps forward and close the distance between them and kiss him, but he wasn’t sure if they were quite there yet.  Steve was probably being ridiculous—the two of them had slept with each other just last night, and he was worried about _kissing_ him. 

…but kisses were usually reserved for people who had feelings for each other—for people who were in _love_ —and while Steve knew how he felt about Tony, he didn’t know if Tony felt the same.  

“How do you feel?” Steve asked instead.  He had done his best to make sure Tony hadn’t experienced any discomfort, and Tony looked like he had been enjoying himself, but Steve couldn’t help but dwell on the minor detail that it had been a while since Tony was intimate with _anyone_.

“Great,” Tony said into his mug. “You?”

“Great,” Steve said in turn.  He went over to the cart and poured a cup of coffee for himself before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Tony was still looking out the window, clutching his mug like a lifeline.  He was usually so talkative in the morning—whether he was rambling on about something he invented the night prior, or telling Clint to stop stealing the food off of his plate—but today, he was uncharacteristically quiet.

“You okay?” Steve asked. 

Tony nodded. 

Steve frowned.  This wasn’t how he was expecting the morning to go at all.  Tony seemed distant—entirely detached from what was happening between them.

“So…” Steve ventured. “I was wondering if you were still available for dinner tonight like we planned.” 

“Dinner?” Tony asked, finally tearing his gaze from the window.  

“Yeah.  I know you have meetings all day, but it’s our last night here,” Steve explained. “You said you really wanted to go to that restaurant over by—”

“Of course,” Tony interrupted. “I promised I’d help you out, didn’t I?”

Steve blinked. “Help me out with what?”

“Your dating predicament.”

“Oh.”  The little hope that Steve had left was dying quicker by the minute.  “Look, about last night…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said. “I mean, two people alone in a strange city—it’s easy to get caught up in the moment.”

Steve felt a wave of disappointment curl in his gut. “Is that all?”

Tony shrugged. “We’re friends, right?  Sometimes these things happen.  It definitely isn’t unheard of, so I don’t think there’s any need to dwell on it.”  He set his mug down on the cart. “Don’t get me wrong, last night was great— _fantastic_ , even—but I really don’t want something like that to get in the way of our friendship.”

“Right.  Of course,” Steve replied, keeping his voice as level as possible.  It was now painfully obvious that Tony didn’t want anything more from him, and in fairness, Steve couldn’t blame him.  Steve wasn’t like any of the people that Tony had ever been involved with: he wasn’t a genius, he wasn’t sophisticated or suave and could barely string three words together under the spotlight.  He hadn’t even been in the future three years—what would Tony ever want with an old relic like him? 

Steve was an idiot for thinking he ever had a chance.  He was just going to have to live with the fact that Tony didn’t feel the same way because nothing was worth losing Tony’s friendship.

“Wow, is it nine already?” Tony remarked, glancing at the clock. “I’ve got a meeting in an hour.”

“You should probably get ready,” Steve suggested.  

“Yeah, you’re right,” Tony said, making his way over to the en suite. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner?  I should be done around five.”

Steve didn’t even get the chance to respond before Tony shut the door, the click of the lock resounding in the quiet room.  


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you okay, Tony?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tony said distractedly.  Glancing at the clock on his desk, he realized he had been staring at the same document in his hands for a good twenty minutes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rhodey drawled. “Maybe the fact that your teammates haven’t seen you all week?”  His arms were folded over his chest, and he was giving Tony the trademark look of disappointment that Tony’s seen on his face ever since their days at MIT. “Pepper’s worried.  She thinks you’ve been working too much.”

“You guys get on my case when I don’t go to work, and now that I’m here, you’re still on my case,” Tony said tiredly. “What do you want from me?”

“We ‘ _get on your case_ ’ when you avoid responsibilities and neglect to take care of yourself,” Rhodey corrected. “I didn’t come to New York so I could hang out with Thor and Sam while my best friend was holed up in his office.”

Okay, so that was kind of a low blow, but Tony understood where he was coming from.  It wasn’t often that Rhodey could take leave and visit, and Tony had only seen him for a grand total of twenty minutes since he arrived. “I have a lot of work to do,” he said lamely.

“I know you have work to do— _everyone_ has work to do. The difference is everyone else puts aside some time to sleep and eat a proper meal every now and then.”

“I’m fine,” Tony insisted.

“The dark circles under your eyes are telling me that you most definitely aren’t,” Rhodey retorted. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your huge, embarrassing crush on Steve, would it?”

Of _course_ Rhodey found out. “What did Pepper tell you?”

“More than you’ve told me apparently,” Rhodey said, leaning against the desk. The expression on his face softened. “What’s up?”

“I slept with Steve.”  It felt wrong to sum it all up in just four words.  

“You slept with Steve,” Rhodey repeated. “Okay, so if you slept together, that means that he’s gotta be interested in you… right?  Or maybe not,” he added when Tony remained silent. “Wait, if he isn’t interested, then how did you sleep together in the first place?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?  Did you trip and fall on his dick or something?” 

“It just… happened, Rhodey.  I don’t know what to tell you.”

“How do you just _happen_ to sleep with someone—wait, you know what?  I’ve known you long enough to know that I probably don’t want to know the answer to that.”

“All right,” Tony said, sitting back up in his chair.  He clasped his hands together and looked at Rhodey expectantly. “Now you know why I’m _not_ fine, so are we done here?”

“Not a chance,” Rhodey said sternly. “Everyone’s worried, Tony.  We haven’t seen you like this since—”

“I’m not drinking again, if that’s what you’re thinking.”  Tony hated even _thinking_ about that low-point in his life, and for the others to think that he’d _ever_ consider going back to—

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Rhodey assured. “No one is.”

“Oh.” Tony looked away. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you were.”  

Rhodey sighed. “Are you ever gonna tell me what happened?”

“I already did.”

“So you two went away to Paris, slept together, and now you’re back and Steve is just… not interested?” Rhodey asked. “What exactly did he say about the situation?”

“Nothing,” Tony replied. “He said ‘good morning,’ then he asked me how I was feeling, and that was it.”

“Did you ever tell him how you—”

“How could I after that?” Tony shot back. “He was acting like it was just another normal day—like we _hadn’t_ just slept together the night before—and then he asks if we’re still on for our practice date.”

“That’s… surprisingly callous of him,” Rhodey remarked. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“I don’t know why I ever thought sleeping with him would be a good idea,” Tony said. “Why did I think _any_ of this was a good idea?  Of course he wouldn’t want me.  I’m such an idiot—”

“Stop being so hard on yourself.”

“I’m not good enough for him.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Rhodey asked. “So what?  All of this time, you were only good enough to hang out with _me_?”

“I don’t mean it like that—”

“Then what do you mean? ‘Cause I’m actually feeling a little offended right now.”

“I don’t work with anyone _romantically_ ,” Tony amended. “Hell, the only reason you can still tolerate me after all of these years is because you’re halfway across the world most of the time.”

Rhodey looked at him like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, or… in this case, _hearing_. “What is with this latest bout of self-deprecating bullshit?” he exclaimed.

“Look,” Tony said, resigned. “I thought I could make it work with Pepper, but that just blew up in our faces.”  

“What happened between you and Pepper _doesn’t matter_!” Rhodey said. “You can’t let one failed relationship define you.”

“I don’t see how I could possibly work with anyone else,” Tony said. “Let alone _Steve_ —”

“Steve isn’t a saint,” Rhodey said. “Neither is Pepper.  They’re just people, and sometimes people just don’t mesh well together.  Did your repulsors work the first time you tried building them?”

“No.”

“Did you keep trying again and again with the same exact parts and specifications?”

“Of course not,” Tony replied, mildly insulted. “That’d be a waste of time.”

“So you tried different things, right?  It took a while, but eventually, you figured out something that worked—”

“Oh, no,” Tony said with a groan. “You’re going for a metaphor now, aren’t you?”

“Just because your other relationships didn’t work doesn’t mean it’s all for nothing,” Rhodey pressed on. “I know how hard it was for you and Pepper to walk away, but you were both leading different lives—there was nothing either of you could do about that.  But _Steve_ , on the other hand?  He’s someone who lives the same kind of life that you do: he fights alongside you, protects you, is protected _by_ you. 

“Honestly, you two probably have a good chance of working, but if he can’t see that, then he’s an idiot for walking away. One day, you’ll find someone out there who willappreciate _all_ of your qualities, but you’re not gonna find out who it is if you just sit here on your ass.”

Tony leaned back and smiled lazily. “At least I know I’ll always have _you_ , honey bear.”

 

* * *

 

One week.

It had been one week since Steve had woken up next to Tony after the best night of his life, and one week since Steve and Tony had come back from Paris, and one week since Steve had heard from him.

It wasn’t like Steve hadn’t made an attempt to reach out to Tony—the day after they got back to the tower, Steve had gone down to Tony’s workshop to invite him out to dinner only to be informed by JARVIS that Tony was busy working.  Steve had tried again the next day, but the workshop was still locked down—even Steve’s override code had been rejected.

Steve hadn’t taken it personally until he found out Thor was granted access with his own code. 

If _that_ hadn’t made it glaringly obvious that Tony didn’t want anything to do with him, then running into Tony and his beautiful date looking pretty cozy in the elevator less than an hour ago definitely did.  Steve had stammered an apology and opted for the stairs, ignoring Tony’s voice calling his name.

“Sulking isn’t a very good look on you.”

“Just let me wallow in self-pity for another minute longer, Sam.”  Steve knew he looked absolutely pitiful sprawled on his couch wearing a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, but he hadn’t had much motivation to leave his suite as of late.  He figured the stubble on his face didn’t help his appearance much either. “Whatever happened to knocking?”

“I _did_ knock,” Sam countered. “ _You’re_ the one who didn’t answer.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

Sam ignored him and took a seat on the other end of the couch. “I heard you blew off the date that Natasha set up for you.”

“I didn’t blow them off,” Steve countered. “I called them.”

“I don’t think an hour constitutes as actual notice,” Sam said. “All of this moping wouldn’t happen to involve a certain genius-billionaire-philanthropist, would it?”

“And here I thought I was hiding it so well,” Steve said dryly. 

“You’re like a kicked puppy whenever you and Tony are fighting.”

Steve scowled. “We aren’t fighting.”

“What _are_ you doing, then?”

“Nothing,” Steve said. “I’ve been busy—”

“Sulking,” Sam cut in.  

“And Tony’s been busy—”

“Probably also sulking.”

“With _work_.”

“What happened with you two?” Sam asked, genuine concern on his face. “I haven’t seen you guys together since you got back from Paris.”

“Is there a rule that I don’t know about that says I have to spend every minute of every day with Tony?”  

“No,” Sam replied, “but when you guys aren’t speaking after being attached at the hip for two months, it’s pretty obvious that something’s up.”

“I told you nothing’s wrong.”  

“So if I told you to go find Tony right now there wouldn’t be _any_ awkwardness between you?”

“You won’t be able to find him because he has a _date_ ,” Steve said, cringing when he realized how pathetic he sounded.  He burrowed his head under the cushions and groaned. “Leave me alone, Sam.”

“What’s so bad about Tony having a date?” Sam asked, plucking a cushion off of Steve’s head. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Wasn’t this the end game of your little arrangement all along?”  

Steve peered up at him. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Then why don’t you save us both the trouble and just come out with it?”

Steve grudgingly sat up and raked his hands through his already messy hair.  He took a deep breath before saying: “I’m in love with Tony.”

Sam threw his hands up in the air. “Praise the Lord, he finally said it!” he exclaimed. “Captain America finally admitted he has the hots for Iron Man.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Steve grumbled.  

“Sure you do,” Sam quipped. “Now that we’ve established that you are head over heels in love with Tony Stark, are you going to tell me what went down?”  

“We slept together.”

Sam cocked his head. “I thought you guys slept together all the time?”

Later, _much_ later, Steve would ask how Sam knew about that, but instead he told him: “Tony and I had sex.”

Sam scrutinized him. “…I’m confused.  If you two had sex, why are you so grumpy?”

“He isn’t interested in me,” Steve said, absently picking at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.  

“Why would he sleep with you if he wasn’t interested in you?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, sighing heavily. “I don’t even know why _I_ slept with Tony considering I didn’t even realize I was in love with him until _after_ it happened.  I tried talking to him the morning after, but he didn’t even want to acknowledge it.  And now he’s on a date.”

“That... that blows, man,” Sam said apologetically. “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said dejectedly. “I’ll get over it.  I mean, _he_ already did.”

“ _You’re_ not gonna get over it by just sitting here,” Sam responded good-naturedly.

“I like sitting,” Steve whined. “Especially here.  My couch is very comfortable.”

“Look, Natasha and Thor want to go out for some drinks.  Why don’t you come along?  It could help get your mind off of things,” Sam suggested. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Steve weighed the pros and cons of the situation: he could stay home and mope about Tony and his gorgeous, sophisticated date, or he could go out and watch his friends make drunken fools of themselves while delaying the aforementioned moping for at least a few hours.

“Okay, fine.”

 

* * *

 

It was no secret that Tony had garnered a reputation as a party animal and playboy over the years.

He could remember weekly trips to Las Vegas or Monte Carlo; remember partying with other people with way more money than any of them knew what to do with; remember going to events with good-looking people on his arm, and can _vaguely_ remember experimenting with every substance under the sun.  

Tony was positive he would’ve ended up dead in a ditch somewhere _years_ ago were it not for Rhodey and Pepper keeping him in line.

Still, the press had always hounded him like a pack of wolves, and Tony chose to embrace it—he’d rather give them something scandalous to talk about than have them prying into the more personal details of his life. 

The press would have been a lot more vicious when he stopped his partying ways were it not for his superhero alter ego.

Despite the fact that Tony had no more interest in the party scene, there were some occasions that still required his presence.  After all, hosting parties and playing nice with absurdly rich investors was part of the job description for one of the most prominent businessmen in the world.

Functions like this were much more tolerable with a drink—or five—but Tony would rather be bored out of his mind than give in to the temptation.

“You know, Mr. Stark, most people at least feign mild interest when they’re on a date.”

Tony looked up from his untouched glass of wine and into the eyes of his date. “I’m sorry.  I’m just a little bit—”

“Distracted?” she offered.

“Yeah,” Tony admitted guiltily.  He must’ve been pretty out of it if his date that he’d only known for less than an hour could see right through him. “Feel free to call me ‘Tony,’ by the way.”

“Then call me ‘Rumiko.’  It’s only fair,” she said with a smile.  She sat down at a nearby table and beckoned Tony to sit next to her. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”

 “Who?”

“Captain Rogers,” Rumiko replied.

Tony eyed her skeptically. “Why?”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“W-what?” Tony sputtered. “How did you know that?” 

“I have _eyes_ , Mr. Stark,” Rumiko said playfully. “I saw the way you were looking at him.  My father used to look at my mother the same way.”

“I’m really that obvious, huh?”

“Were you _trying_ to hide it?” she teased. “I appreciate that you took up Ms. Potts’ offer to accompany me this evening, but I have to ask: why aren’t you spending it with Captain Rogers instead?”

Tony looked away from her imploring gaze. “We aren’t together,” he informed. “He isn’t interested.”  

Now it was Rumiko’s turn to look doubtful. “Are you certain?  He _seemed_ interested when we ran into him earlier.”

Tony smiled bitterly. “I think you’re seeing things, Ms. Fujikawa.”

“All I’m saying is: I’m usually right about these things,” she boasted.  

“Have you had a lot of experience with these types of situations?”

“Quite a bit,” Rumiko said into her martini. “Does he know of your feelings?”

“No, but—”

“Then you should tell him.”

Tony tilted his head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is that simple,” Rumiko countered. “Maybe you’re just overcomplicating things.”

Tony desperately wished that were the truth. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night,” he said sincerely.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Rumiko assured. “In fact, I’m glad we got the chance to just talk.  Pepper spoke very highly of you, and now I can see why.”

Tony frowned. “I’ve spent the entire night brooding about another man.”

“The man you love,” she corrected. “I’m glad to have seen a bit of the real Tony Stark, and not just the Tony Stark that the media portrays you as.”  

“Still, you probably didn’t expect to spend your evening playing therapist.”  

“No, I didn’t, but the night isn’t over yet,” Rumiko pointed out. “C’mon, I think you owe me at least one dance before this boring party ends.”

 

* * *

 

Steve had to admit that going to the bars with the rest of the team was actually a good idea, and he didn’t even mind that he was stone cold sober because he got to watch a tipsy Clint and an even more tipsy Sam miserably lose a game of pool.

“You know, I didn’t think it’d be cute for a military man to lose to a bunch of soccer moms,” Natasha quipped, watching Sam flirt with the group of women almost twice his age. “I was wrong.  It’s adorable.”

“You think highly of everything Sam does,” Thor teased, earning a particularly hard punch in the arm from Natasha. “That was uncalled for.”

“Oh, I think it was very much called for,” Natasha countered.

“I think it’s sweet,” Bruce commented.

Natasha beamed at him. “Thank you.”

Thor took out his flask and poured some of the contents into his glass. “Are you sure you do not want any, Steve?” Thor asked.

“No, it’s okay,” Steve replied. “I’d rather not have any alcohol in my system for whenever you guys decide to interrogate me.”

“We only interrogate _villains_ ,” Natasha said. “Anything we ask you, we ask because you’re our friend and we care about you.”

“Natasha is right,” Thor said. “We are concerned about you and Tony and would like to know if there is anything we can do.”

“I appreciate it,” Steve replied. “But there’s nothing you guys can do.  This is between us, and I’m sorry if it’s interfered with the team—”

“We aren’t talking about the team, Steve,” Bruce interjected.

Natasha nodded. “We’re talking about you and Tony.  This has absolutely nothing to do with the way we work on the field.”

“We love both of you dearly and simply want to know how you are holding up,” Thor added.

Steve sighed and looked down at his glass that was nearly filled to the rim with lukewarm beer.  He had barely taken a sip of it but had felt nauseous almost immediately after. 

What did they expect him to say?  Steve knew he couldn’t lie to them—they knew him too well for that—but how was he supposed to just up and tell them about his unrequited feelings without sounding like a whiny brat?

God, he sounded pathetic.  If Bucky were here, he’d be laughing in Steve’s face.

“I—”

“Did Steve tell you guys about his huge crush on Tony, yet?” Sam asked as he and Clint approached the table.

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. “I was about to, but there’s no need for that anymore, is there?”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Clint drawled. “Tell us something we _don’t_ know.”

“They slept together,” Sam supplied, making Thor spit out his drink.

“Excuse me?” Thor said, giving Steve a disbelieving look. “You and Tony—”

“It didn’t mean anything!” Steve said quickly. “It was one time in Paris and it didn’t mean anything.  It’s fine.  I’m over it and—”

“You clearly aren’t over it if your moping is any indication,” Bruce pointed out. “You haven’t spoken to one another in a week.”

“We just… agreed to give each other some space for a little while,” Steve said, and even he could hear the doubt in his voice. “Just a little time to let things get back to normal.”

 

* * *

 

Tony couldn’t remember the last time he went to a party and woke up without a killer hangover.  

The rest of Tony’s evening had turned out to be quite enjoyable.  After their dance, he and Rumiko had ducked out of the party and spent the rest of the night talking in the park and sharing a box of cupcakes from _Magnolia Bakery_.  He had walked her back to her hotel and bid her a good night.   

Tony made a mental note to send a couple dozen more vanilla buttercreme cupcakes to Rumiko for being such wonderful company (and another dozen to Pepper for the ten voicemails she had left on his phone).

Tony trudged into the kitchen where he found most of the team in various states of alertness.

“Good morning, Tony,” Bruce greeted from where he was seated at the counter. “How was the benefit?”

“A real bore,” Tony answered.  He made his way to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice before drinking directly from the bottle. “You guys do anything fun while I was gone?”

“We partook in drinking games,” Thor informed, his mouth full of _Cinnamon Toast Crunch_.

“So that explains why Sam looks like he just walked out of _Night of the Living Dead_ ,” Tony quipped, raising a brow at Sam, whose head was nestled on Natasha’s lap. “Did you go drink for drink with Hill again?”

“Shut the hell up,” Sam grumbled.

Tony just rolled his eyes and took another swig from the bottle.

“Steve’s not going to be happy if he sees you doing that,” Bruce commented. “Again.”

“Where is he anyway?” Tony asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“He went out for a run,” Clint answered. “Should be back any minute now.”

“Oh, that’s—What the hell are you doing, Barton?” Tony asked, eying the familiar red and yellow mug in his hand.

“Drinking tea,” Clint replied coolly, ignoring the brunet’s glare.

“From my mug,” Tony said.   

“I told you he’d notice,” Bruce said to Thor, who took out his wallet and handed over a ten dollar bill.

“Mine’s dirty,” Clint said.

“Then wash it,” Tony snapped.

“Why is it such a big deal?” Clint questioned.

“Clint…” Natasha warned. “Just give it back—”

Clint scoffed. “What is this, the first grade?”

“That’s not the—Barton, I swear to God, I’m really not in the mood right now—”

Sam groaned. “Jesus Christ, this is not helping my hangover—”

“Tony,” Thor said calmly, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder, but Tony moved away. “I am sure he meant no harm—”

“Steve gave me that mug years ago!” Tony said. “You know I—” His rant was cut short by the sound of his phone ringing, and a quick glance at the caller ID told him it was Pepper. “Whatever the papers said about me is a lie,” he answered automatically.

“ _What did the papers say about you?_ ” Pepper asked.

“Nothing to my knowledge.  I mean, I just _assumed_ ,” Tony replied. “They usually find something to write about after I go to a party.”

“ _Then I guess a congratulations is in order because I haven’t heard anything_.”

“Oh.  That’s… that’s good.  Great, actually.” Tony cleared his throat. “Why are you calling me at—” he glanced at the clock. “It’s barely six in the morning where you are.  What’s up?”

“ _I need a favor_.”

“ _You_ need a favor from _me_?”

“ _Shocking, I know_ ,” Pepper said. “ _Listen, I just got a call from the venue, and they had a fire in their main ballroom last night, so I need you to go and check out a hotel that has a last minute vacancy._ ”

“Why me?” Tony asked. “Why don’t you have someone else—some more qualified—like, oh, I dunno… your _wedding planner_?”

“ _Mary is tied up with a crisis with another wedding_ ,” Pepper explained.“ _I’d go myself, but I have meetings all day, and Jonathan is stuck in London until the wedding.  There’s another couple that wants to look at it so I_ really _need you to get there before they do._ ”

“You’re seriously trusting me with this?” Tony said incredulously.

“ _Well… I wouldn’t oppose if you brought someone else for a second opinion_.”

“Right.  Sure, yeah.  I can do that.”

“ _Thanks, Tony.  I’ll forward you the address_.”

“Who wants to accompany me on a wedding-related errand?” Tony announced to the room after hanging up the phone.

“Wow, that sounds like fun, and I totally would, but I don’t want to,” Clint replied sardonically.  He shoved the newly washed mug into Tony’s hands. “Here’s your damn mug.”

“Thanks,” Tony muttered.  He looked over at Natasha, who seemed to be deeply engrossed in the sports section of the morning paper. “Nat—”

“Not on your life,” Natasha interrupted. “Pretty sure you can count Sam out too considering he’s already gotten sick three times this morning.” 

“Twice,” Sam corrected. “It was only twice.”

“It’s still two times too many,” Natasha retorted.

Tony sighed. “Thor?”

“I’m afraid I must decline,” Thor said apologetically. “I have already promised Jane that I would spend the day with her.”

Having run out of options, Tony sidled up to Bruce.  He knew Bruce wasn’t fond of these types of outings, but Tony really didn’t want to drive out to the Hamptons by himself to look at _wedding venues_ of all places. “What do you say, Brucey-bear?  I could take—”

“Steve!” Bruce immediately perked up when said man walked into the kitchen, freshly showered after his morning run.  

“Good morning,” Steve said, getting a chorus of greetings in return.

“Say, do you have any plans for today?” Bruce asked.

“Um… no?” Steve replied uneasily.  

“Tony, why don’t you take Steve with you?” Natasha suggested.

“Take me to what?” Steve asked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to drag him into this,” Tony said quickly.

“Nonsense!” Thor said. “I’m sure Steve would love to go with you.”

“Go to what?” Steve asked again.

 “Tony has to run an errand for Pepper and he needs someone to go with him,” Bruce explained. “The rest of us have plans, but _you_ already said that you’re free, right?”

“I mean, _technically_ I am but—”

“Then it’s settled,” Bruce interrupted, giving Tony a look that dared him to say otherwise. “Steve’s going with Tony.”

 

* * *

 

Steve hated his friends; it was _their_ fault that he was off in the Hamptons in some swanky hotel with Tony with no immediate means of escape.

The drive had been relatively tolerable thanks to the radio, but the occasional lapses of silence in between songs were stifling.  It was a ridiculous notion considering that just a few weeks ago they could sit together for hours without uttering a single word to one another.

When they finally arrived at their destination two hours later, Tony practically bolted from the car as they left it with the hotel valet.  His apparent attempt at escape was impeded by the manager, who was waiting to greet them in the lobby.

“Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers?” the woman called out as she approached.  She shook both of their hands. “My name is Vanessa Marianna.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s ours,” Tony replied, looking far more collected than he had been just ten seconds ago.

“We were very excited to get your call,” she said. “It caused quite a buzz among the staff.  It’s not every day that we get such noteworthy clients, even here.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Steve assured with a smile. “The property is beautiful.  People must be clambering to get their names on the waiting list.”

“Why don’t I give you two the grand tour?” Vanessa offered, leading them down the hall. “I do believe the ballroom will live up to your standards.  A wedding such as yours should have nothing but the best, and we have no doubt that we can provide that.”

Steve froze, glancing at Tony before looking back at Vanessa. “ _Our_ wedding?”

“Oh, don’t worry.  We have a very professional staff here, Mr. Rogers,” Vanessa guaranteed. “We promise nothing but the utmost discretion.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s not—”

“We’re not together,” Tony cut in. 

Steve knew it was irrational for such a simple and _true_ statement to make him feel so gutted—so horribly void inside—but it did.  He was well-aware of his relationship with Tony—or lack thereof these days—but to hear Tony say it so plainly did nothing to help his mood. 

“My friend is the one getting married, but she couldn’t make it out here today,” Tony continued. “We’re just helping her out.” 

Vanessa’s cheeks colored. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed—”

“It’s all right,” Steve said, even though he felt anything but.  He ignored the unsettled look Tony was sending his way and plastered on a smile. “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling all that well of a sudden.  Why don’t you two go on ahead and I’ll catch up later?”

Steve didn’t bother waiting for a response before ducking outside.  

Of all the things he could be doing with Tony to try to ease the tension between them, looking at wedding venues definitely wasn’t one of them—not that Steve wanted to marry per se, but it was nice to know that he had options.

He wandered around the building and eventually found himself in the hotel gardens.  He took a seat on one of the stone benches overlooking the pond and had just begun to relax when his phone alerted him of a new text message.

 **_Tony:_ ** _You ok?_

Steve shot off a quick reply and then pocketed his phone.  It was one thing being forced to spend time with the man, but seeing him feign concern was something Steve would have rather not had to deal with at all.

Steve had no idea how Tony was able to just take everything in stride—a part of him was jealous of Tony’s ability, but a bigger part of him was disheartened to see how unaffected Tony was by the entire ordeal.  

It wasn’t until an hour later that Steve heard Tony’s approaching footsteps.

“Hey,” Tony greeted, stopping just a few feet from him. “You feeling better?”

Steve nodded, getting to his feet. “How was the tour?”

“Great,” Tony answered. “Pepper’s going to love it.  I already signed the contract.”

“That’s great.”

“Great,” Tony said again.  They stood awkwardly for a few moments before he spoke again: “Thanks for coming along, by the way.”

“Didn’t really have much of a choice,” Steve found himself muttering under his breath before he could stop himself.  He cursed at his lack of tact. “I’m sorry, I—”

Tony waved it off. “It’s fine,” he said, even when it clearly wasn’t. “I still appreciate it.”

“Sure, Tony.  Can’t say I was much of a help though,” Steve said in a poor attempt to lighten mood, but Tony was looking anywhere but at him.

“So uh, do you wanna grab lunch or something?” Tony asked abruptly. “Vanessa said there’s a great seafood place down the street.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“Seafood?” Tony said again. “Y’know, the stuff that lives in the ocean?” 

“No, I mean, _what are you trying to do_?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony defended. “I just thought we’d go out to lunch or something, seeing as we haven’t hung out in a while.”

“Whose fault is that?” Steve shot back.  It was a low blow, but he really didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now. “You really don’t have to do this.” 

Tony blinked. “Do what?”

“Force this,” Steve said, gesturing between the two of them. “ _Us_.”

“I’m not forcing anything,” Tony insisted. 

“Tony, the only reason we’re together right now is because our friends _made_ you to take me,” Steve said, his voice rising. “You’ve been avoiding me ever since Paris.”

“That’s not true,” Tony said, eyes downcast.  

“So you revoked my access codes because you _wanted_ to see me?”

Tony’s gaze snapped back to Steve’s face. “That’s not—I—”

“It’s fine, Tony,” Steve said dismissively.  “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Steve, wait!” Tony said, grabbing his arm before he could walk away. “Steve, I’m sorry—”

“You’re _sorry_?!”

“That night was a mistake and I shouldn’t—I’m just really sorry, okay?” Tony said. “I’ve been a total jerk and nothing can excuse me for that, but I’m sorry.”

“A mistake,” Steve repeated.  It stung to hear Tony talk about it so flippantly.  “Right.” 

“I just—I think it would be better for us to start over and forget it ever happened,” Tony explained. “It was—” 

“A mistake, right?” Steve snapped, wrenching his arm out of Tony’s hold. “Tony, we can’t just _start over_.  You can’t expect me to pretend like none of this ever happened between us.  You might be able to do it, but I can’t.”  He turned on his heel and stalked away, fighting back the disappointment when Tony didn’t call for him.   

The hotel should be able to get him a cab back to the city.


	5. Chapter 5

To everyone’s relief, Pepper’s wedding went off without a hitch.  There was no worldwide crisis that the Avengers had to attend to, no meddlesome paparazzi, and no catering or florist-related emergencies. 

“Congratulations, Pep,” Tony said, kissing her cheek. 

“Thank you, Tony,” Pepper replied, her face positively glowing. “Thank you for everything.” 

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Tony said.  “Wait ‘til you see your honeymoon suite upstairs.”  He let her lead him onto the dancefloor as the band started up a rendition of [_I Wanna Dance With Somebody_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2FFnh0Ym9Gs).

“Should I be scared?” Pepper asked.

“What reason have I ever given you to be scared about one of my surprises?”

Pepper gave him an incredulous look. “Do you really want to go there?”

Tony thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Naah, I’m good,” he quipped before spinning her. 

“How are things between you and Steve?” Of _course_ Pepper chose that moment to bring up the elephant in the room—there was no way Tony could escape with everyone watching them.  He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed by her little trap.

“Just dandy,” Tony replied.  “I appreciate you seating us together, by the way.  It made conversation over dinner very… interesting.”

“Who else was I supposed to seat you with?”

“Oh, I don’t know… with the rest of the team, perhaps?” Tony said wryly.  

“There wasn’t any more room at their table,” Pepper explained coolly. 

“Because you seated your parents with them and put me and Steve with your weird extended family from Colorado.”

Pepper gave him a disapproving look. “Aunt Doris and Uncle Bob are very nice.  A little eccentric maybe, but they’re nice people, and they give _great_ gifts.”

“You told them Steve and I are dating,” Tony said point-blank.  Things between him and Steve had improved since their wedding errand a couple weeks ago, but they were by no means back to where they had been.    

“I did no such thing,” Pepper refuted. “But they _may_ be under the impression that you two are engaged.”

“ _What_?!” Tony sputtered.

“In my defense, I didn’t plant the idea in their head,” Pepper said. “They just assumed—”

“And you didn’t bother correcting them?” Tony said dubiously.

“They kept talking about how cute you two are,” Pepper said.  Tony knew she meant it as some sort of compliment, but the entire dinner was just a rude reminder of the one thing that Tony wanted but _didn’t_ have. “I didn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Right,” Tony said as the band finished the song. “No one should be disappointed, especially tonight.  Tonight is a happy occasion.”

Pepper furrowed her brow. “Tony—”

“It was a beautiful wedding, Pep,” Tony said, putting on his best smile. “I had a lot of fun, but I think I’m gonna head up to my room.”

“But the party won’t be over for at least another hour,” Pepper said, clearly disappointed.    

“I know, but I’m beat.  Long week.  Y’know how it is for us superheroes.”  He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you all at brunch tomorrow,” he added before turning on his heel.  

Tony weaved his way through the crowd, ignoring the looks he got from other party-goers for deserting the bride on the dancefloor.  He shot a quick text to Rhodey to wish him luck with the blonde Air Force colonel he was talking up at the bar before ducking out of the reception.

Tony got into the nearest elevator and dug around his pocket for the cardkey that Natasha had slipped to him earlier that night.  Glancing at the room number, he pressed the button for the appropriate floor and waited as the doors slid closed before finally beginning the ascent to his floor. 

He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get under the covers and sleep—the night was still young, so he figured he could snag a few hours of restful sleep before Clint would inevitably stumble into the room in the early hours of the morning.  Tony had been adamant about not getting a roommate, but because of the last-minute booking, he really hadn’t had a choice.  On the upside, Tony figured it was probably better to share a room with Clint than _Steve_.

Tony found the room easily enough, but was surprised to hear the shower already running in the en suite.  He slid off his jacket and hung it on a nearby chair before taking off his tie.  As he toed off his shoes, he caught the end of the first verse of [_Unforgettable_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXjdMV7SOfE), which Tony may have found a little odd considering it wasn’t in Clint’s repertoire of music, but it _was_ Pepper and Jonathan’s wedding song, so it made sense.

…until the singing grew louder, and Tony realized that the voice most definitely was _not_ Clint.  It deeper, yet somehow softer, and sounded a lot like—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony cursed, before hightailing it out of the room. 

After knocking on the doors of half a dozen other rooms and annoying the occupants of each (and being threatened by more than one person that they’d call hotel security on him for causing a disturbance), he finally stumbled upon Natasha’s room and she looked _pissed_.

“What are you doing here, Tony?”

“Can I stay in your room?” Tony blurted.

“What?”

“You have a couch, right?  A floor?” he offered. “Hell, I’ll even sleep in the bathtub.”

“What’s wrong with your room?”

“Nothing.”

“Then sleep there,” Natasha said. “I have my hands full at the moment.”  

“But—”

Natasha paused and looked at him expectantly. “But?”

“Steve’s there.”

Natasha’s look remained passive. “So?  You two sleep in the same bed all the time.  Why is it such a big deal?”

Tony gaped. “You know about that?”

“What kind of spy do you take me for?” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “Of course I’ve known about that.  We’ve _all_ known about it.”

“Then you all damn well know that Steve and I haven’t been speaking either.”

“Then this would be the perfect opportunity to change that, wouldn’t it?” Natasha countered. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but you need to fix it.”

“Yeah, uh… no, thanks,” Tony said, backing away. “I’ll just find another hotel—”

“Every hotel within a thirty-mile radius is booked solid,” Natasha informed. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard,” she added innocently.  

“JARVIS?” Tony said into his phone. “Find me a hotel room within a forty mile radius.”

“ _I apologize, sir, but there are no rooms available in the area_ ,” the A.I. replied instantaneously.  

Tony narrowed his eyes at Natasha.  “Of course there aren’t.” Part of him felt betrayed that his friends had all conspired against him, but another part of him knew that they were all just doing what they thought was best—even if they were playing dirty.

Tony was just glad that they were all on the same side because he doubted the world would stand much of a chance if Natasha and Pepper decided to try their hands at world domination.

“It’s one night, Tony,” Natasha said. “You can deal with it for one night, or need I remind you of all of the shit you made Pepper put up with for the past fifteen years?”

Tony scowled. “Low blow, Ms. Romanoff.  Why don’t—Hey, why are you up here so early anyway?” he questioned. “I thought for sure you’d still be downstairs ripping shots with Coulson an—Oh.” Tony raised an eyebrow when he caught sight of Clint and Sam, both of whom were passed out on the floor.  Well, that solved the mystery of his supposed roommate. “Any chance you need help babysitting the two drunk birds?”  

“Thor and Jane already went down to the hotel gift shop for some provisions.”

“I’d be more than happy to go on a quest for water—”

“That really won’t be necessary,” Natasha assured.

“Are you sure there isn’t something I can do?” Tony said—he was not begging, but he had a feeling it was something very close to that.

“You _could_ get over your damn ego and go to your own room and _talk to Steve_ ,” Natasha said, closing the door before Tony could even get a word in.

Tony knew she was right.  He had to try to patch things up with Steve, and if he didn’t do it tonight, then he probably never would.  If things went south…

At least it was only for one night.

…or he could call one of his suits and be back in Manhattan in less than an hour.

Tony shook his head.  Natasha (and Pepper, probably) would kill him if he took the easy way out. 

He marched back down the hall to ~~hisSteve’s~~ _their_ room and inserted his cardkey, waiting with bated breath when he saw the red light turn green.  He steeled himself before turning the handle and stepping inside just as Steve was getting into bed, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still damp from his shower.

“Tony?  What are you doing in my room?”

“Funny story actually,” Tony said nervously. “This is my room too.”

Steve peered at him curiously. “What?”

“We’re roomies.”

Steve looked… _disappointed_. “Oh.”

“It’s just one night.  Besides, it isn’t the first time we’ve shared a room, right?” Tony joked, trying to keep his tone light and playful. “

“I guess not,” Steve shrugged. “I mean, I can get another room or—”

“Don’t bother, every room is booked,” Tony said, immediately regretting it because it was now glaringly obvious to Steve that he had already tried to avoid this exact situation. “I mean—”

“You’re right.  It’s just for one night,” Steve said.

Tony nodded, taking that as an invitation to approach the bed—and really, how was it fair that their room only had one bed while Natasha’s had _two_ —grabbed a couple of pillows off of it and tossed them onto the floor.  At the very least, it wasn’t hardwood, and the carpet felt pretty plush beneath Tony’s feet.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked with a frown, and god, Tony hated knowing he was the cause of it.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Tony retorted. “I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Why?  We’ve slept in the same bed before.”

“Yeah, but that was… before...” Tony trailed off.  He wasn’t sure how to breach the subject without seeming like an insensitive ass.

“Before what?” Steve snapped. “Before we slept together?”

Okay, so it seemed like Steve didn’t have the same reservations that Tony did.

Steve sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Look, Tony.  I know you’re not interested in anything more, believe me, I know.  I’ve been trying to give you some space, to not let my feelings get in the way, but—”

Tony gawked. “Your _feelings_?”

Steve paused, his eyes widening comically. “Um…”

“Steve, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Did you… not know…?”

“Of course, I didn’t know!  How the hell would I have known?”

“You’ve been avoiding me!” Steve shot back. “Most people would interpret that as lack of interest.”

“ _You’re_ the one who said you didn’t want a relationship,” Tony said, accusation dripping from his tone.  

“I never said that!” Steve exclaimed.

“Yeah, you did!”

“When?”

“The morning after you asked if I still wanted to get dinner like we had _planned_ —”

“I was _trying_ to ask you if you wanted to go on a date!” Steve cut in.

“A date?” Tony repeated dumbly. “A _date_ -date?

“Yeah, a _date_ -date, but you were the one that went on and on about us staying friends and—”

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“Well, it isn’t,” Steve said, standing up and encroaching on Tony’s space. “What I want is to date you.”

“You want to date me,” Tony said incredulously, getting a nod in return. “That is a terrible idea.”

“ _Why_?” Steve asked.

“I’m gonna fuck up, Steve,” Tony said. “I mean, look at us!  I already did—”

“That was just a misunderstanding, Tony,” Steve reasoned.

“ _That’s_ an understatement.”

“Okay, so it was a bit of a disaster,” Steve admitted, “but I think we were _both_ at fault there.” 

“I’m going to say the wrong thing again,” Tony pressed. “The last thing I want to do is drive you away, but I know it’s bound to happen.”

“It won’t happen.”

Tony looked away. “You don’t know that.”

Steve reached out and gently cupped Tony’s face with his hands. “I love you.”

They were three simple little words that Tony had heard others say millions of times before—rarely _to_ him, of course, but still, he’d heard them.

…but hearing Steve say them felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

“That could change,” Tony said quietly.  

“It won’t,” Steve assured. “It won’t, I promise.”

“You… You really want this?”

“I want _you_ for as long as you’ll have me,” Steve replied. “I don’t… I’m not always good with words, you know that.”

“You seem to be doing just fine,” Tony said, echoing his statement two months ago, when this whole mess had started. 

“But it’s not enough,” Steve said.  His hands dropped back to his sides, and Tony found himself desperately missing his touch. “Whatever I do will never be enough; not for you.  I want to give you the _world_ , but… I never say the right things—at least, not when it really matters.  I’ve had too many missed opportunities because I was so preoccupied with waiting for the right person.  I haven’t had a lot of good things in my life, Tony, but I want to hold on to the few that I’ve got.”

“Me too.”  Tony immediately regretted the lackluster response.  “I feel the same way, I mean, about you,” he backtracked. “But you deserve more than I could ever give you.”  

Steve looked genuinely shocked with his response. “Tony—”

“You’re a good thing,” Tony clarified. “Honestly, you’re probably _the_ best damn thing to happen to me… which is why I don’t—I _can’t_ mess it up, Steve.  I really need you in my life.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Why are you so convinced that you’re going to mess up?” Steve asked. “If anything, _you_ should be asking for better, but I… Tony, I’ve never done this.  A real relationship, I mean.  I used to have all of these ideas in my head about the person that I would marry, and the kind of life I’d be living after the war, but then the ice happened and… none of that matters anymore.  

“I’ve learned that things rarely go the way you want it to, but we can still make the best of what we’ve got.  I want this, and I know we’re going to have to work on it, but it’ll be worth it—and if we make mistakes along the way, there’s not much else we can do but learn from them.  I already made the mistake of waiting too long once, Tony, and I… I _can’t_ do that.  Not again.” 

Tony knew the exact weight of Steve’s words.  He’d accompanied Steve to enough nursing homes and seen the resigned look on Steve’s face when reality set in and Steve realized all over again that they had all moved on.  He’d recognized the longing in Steve’s eyes whenever he spoke about Peggy, and heard the hollowness in his voice whenever he mentioned Bucky.

“If you can honestly tell me that you don’t want to pursue this, I’ll understand.  It’ll hurt like hell, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have you back in my life again because I miss you so damn much, Tony.”

Why was Tony denying Steve this?  Denying _both_ of them? 

Steve was right: in their line of work, they never knew what could happen.  Either one of them could die _tomorrow_ , and what would that leave the other?  Pain?  Regret?  An endless string of what-if scenarios, forever unresolved because neither of them got over themselves for long enough to give it a _try_.

“I’m sorry for unloading all of this on you,” Steve said, suddenly looking self-conscious. “Um… I can give you some time to—”

“Shut up, Steve.”  Tony grabbed Steve’s shirt and pulled him down for a kiss.  It was sweet and consuming and everything Tony had missed about him in the time they hadn’t spoken.

It ended only moments later, but Steve kept close so they were breathing the same air.  Pressing their foreheads together, Steve cupped Tony’s jaw with a hand, thumb brushing against his cheek.

“I want to take you out on a proper date.”

“This is all so sudden, Steve,” Tony said dramatically. “I don’t know what to say.”

Steve responded by hitting him over the head with a pillow. “Idiot,” he muttered, but the smile on his face was fond, and Tony couldn’t help but smile back.

 

* * *

 

Their hotel room had a breathtaking view of the ocean. 

The only reason Steve knew this was because he had woken up as the first rays of the sun started to peek over the horizon, red, orange, yellow rays of light dancing across the stillness of low-tide.

He was pleasantly warm, thanks to the sleeping body next to him.  It wasn’t the first time he had woken up with someone in the same bed, and certainly not the first time he had woken up with _Tony_ in his arms, but it was the first time Steve woke up feeling… happy.

Unconditionally and irretrievably _happy_.

He lay there holding Tony as he slept, and watched as the man’s face was bathed in the golden glow of sunlight, dancing across his dark eyelashes, his nose, the softness of his lips.  It was a mesmerizing sight: one that Steve realized he wouldn’t mind waking up to every morning for the rest of his life.

By the time Tony stirred, it was nearing nine in the morning.  They would miss brunch if they didn’t get up soon—Steve was just glad that he didn’t have to wake Tony himself because he wouldn’t have had the heart to disturb him.

Tony shifted in his arms, burrowing his face in Steve’s chest, his arm clutching at the thin cotton of Steve’s t-shirt.

“Hi,” Steve greeted with a chuckle.  He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Tony lifted his head at that, and Steve could see the moment that Tony realized where they were. “Hi,” he murmured, a bemused expression on his face. “I thought last night was a dream.”

Steve couldn’t help himself—he leaned in and kissed him square on the mouth, relishing in the blush that spread across Tony’s cheeks when he pulled away. “Not a dream.”

“Oh. That’s… that’s good.”  He smiled wryly. “I’m sorry, I’m just having a difficult time processing all of this.”

“Why?”

Tony stared at him in disbelief. “You told me you _love_ me.”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes,” Tony said matter-of-factly.  

“What if I were to convince you?” Steve proposed.

“How do you propose to do that— _oh_.” Tony watched with wide eyes as Steve maneuvered himself between Tony’s legs, his hard length unashamedly pressing against Tony’s inner thigh through the thin cloth of his pajama pants. “I suppose you could _try_.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t even have to ask, Steve,” Tony replied. “Honestly, I’d be a little insulted if you don’t do so in the next thirty seconds.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Steve quipped before surging forward. 

It took almost no time for them to shed their clothing.  Steve’s hands cupped Tony’s ass and pulled him forward so they could grind their cocks together. 

“I don’t have anything,” Tony groaned, rolling his hips against Steve’s. “Fuck, why don’t I ever have anything when this happens?  Wait, no, keeping moving,” Tony demanded when Steve stilled above him. “We can still—”

“Hold on,” Steve said, before getting off the bed.  He went into the en suite and started going through all of the cabinets and drawers under the sink, sighing with frustration when he couldn’t find anything suitable.

“I doubt we’ll have a repeat of our luck from the last time,” Tony said when Steve reemerged.

Steve ignored him and went over to his suitcase. 

Tony’s jaw dropped when Steve unzipped one of the compartments and started rummaging through the contents. “You came _prepared_?”   

“No, but knowing Natasha and Pepper, they probably planned for every possible outcome of this scenario,” Steve replied.  He unzipped another pocket and found a bottle of lube as he predicted. 

What he didn’t expect, however, was the economy size pack of condoms.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I think they’re really overestimating my abilities.”  

Steve grabbed the bottle, leaving the box in his suitcase, and got back on the bed, straddling Tony’s hips. “Am I the only one who remembers what happened that night?”

“That night was an outlier,” Tony refuted.  His hands settled on Steve’s thighs. “I hadn’t gotten laid in over a year.”

“Then I’ll personally see to it that you never have that problem again,” Steve said, kissing Tony on the mouth.

Tony whined when Steve pulled away a moment later. “Why’d you stop?” he asked. “I never said you could stop kissing me.”

Steve opened the bottle and poured a liberal amount of lube on his fingers. “We’ll get there,” he replied before reaching behind himself.

Tony’s jaw dropped open. “What are you doing?”

“I thought you were some kind of genius,” Steve said, his voice breathless as he started to open himself up.  He hadn’t done this in some time, and he knew he probably wasn’t being thorough enough, but he really needed to get Tony inside him.  

“Are you sure?”

Steve nodded. “Never been more sure of anything,” he said before kissing Tony again. 

Tony returned the kiss with equal fervor, his tongue plunging into Steve’s mouth without preamble.  Even with Steve’s multitasking capabilities, he was finding it harder and harder to focus on preparing himself with Tony doing absolutely wicked things with his tongue.  Eventually, Steve felt Tony take hold of his wrist and pull his hand away from Steve’s opening before replacing Steve’s fingers with his.  Steve had no idea when Tony had managed to slick up his fingers, but he couldn’t really complain when he felt Tony’s fingers press against his prostate. 

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve gasped against Tony’s lips.  “Tony, I need—”

“I’ve got you.”  Those three words were the only warning Steve got before Tony pulled his fingers free and flipped them over so he could kneel between Steve’s legs. 

Steve could feel Tony’s cock pressing against his entrance—the anticipation of finally having Tony inside him was great in itself, but Steve wanted more, so he wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist.  Tony got the hint and finally pushed forward, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. 

“You okay?” Tony asked, his hand coming up to brush the stray hairs away from Steve’s face.

“Of course, I’m okay,” he answered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  

“You really tensed up, I just—”

“I’m tense because I’m trying really hard not to come in the next five seconds,” Steve retorted. “Move, please.”

“Are you—”

“If you ask me if I’m sure one more time, I’m going to finish off by myself in the bathroom,” Steve snapped, but the last few words got caught in his throat when Tony circled his hips.

“We definitely wouldn’t want _that_ ,” Tony bantered.

“Just shut up and make love to me.”

Steve hadn’t even realized what he had said until it had already left his mouth, but when he saw the genuine surprise on Tony’s face, he found that he really didn’t care.

What they were doing at that moment was already so different from the frantic desperation of their first time. 

This time, there was no rush; no unanswered questions; no wondering what would happen between them after.  Steve loved Tony and Tony loved him back, and all of this was just the beginning for the two of them. 

Tony surged forward and captured Steve’s lips in a kiss as he started a leisurely pace.

Steve was vaguely aware of the high-pitched moans that escaped his mouth with every deliberate thrust Tony’s cock inside him, and he might have been more self-conscious of it another time, but all he could think about was how unbelievable it all felt.  His hands roamed over Tony’s back and down the corded muscle of his arms before settling on the sheets.  

Tony was lighting him up inside, making his nerves stand on end, and Steve wanted that feeling ingrained in his memory forever.

Tony’s lips ghosted along Steve’s neck. “Do you need my hand?” he murmured.

Steve shook his head.  He could see the strain in Tony’s shoulders from trying to control himself and keeping his movements slow and careful, and Steve was struggling just as much, thoroughly surprised that the fabric in his hands hadn’t ripped into shreds yet.  “I need _you_ ,” he said.  

“Whatever you want,” Tony promised.  He didn’t hurry, but he managed to thrust harder, getting impossibly deeper inside Steve.  

It didn’t take long for Steve to feel that familiar wave of pleasure curling in his gut, intensifying with every slide of Tony’s cock, every touch from his fingers, and every kiss from his lips.  It built slowly, steadily, until Tony leaned forward and whispered a litany of praises in his ear, and Steve came.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he shuddered through the aftershocks, full body tremors that were almost too much to bear, but he wanted to feel Tony.  He wanted to hear him, wanted to know that he had the same effect that Tony had on him, and so he clenched his muscles tight as Tony gave three more deep, hard strokes before coming with a grunt and spilling inside of him.

The only sounds in the room were their heavy breathing.  Steve carded his fingers through Tony’s hair as Tony lazily mouthed at his collarbone, leaving a bruise that would be gone in only a matter of hours.  They lay there for what felt like _days_ , just basking in the afterglow and relishing the contact.

“How are you feeling?  Okay?” Tony asked.

Steve nodded.  He couldn’t remember ever feeling as great as he did in that moment. “More than.  You?”

“Incredible.” Tony leaned forward and kissed him.  He had barely pulled out when they were interrupted by an incessant knocking on their door.

_“Stop being gross and get your butts down to brunch,”_ they heard Clint holler.  He sounded surprisingly alert considering he was passed out drunk the night before. _“I’m not going to deal with you guys complaining if you miss out on the pancakes and mimosas.”_

Steve and Tony waited until Clint’s footsteps were out of earshot before they burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe they managed to orchestrate all of this,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Me neither, but I’m glad they did,” Tony replied.  He leaned forward and kissed Steve’s nose.  “It probably would’ve taken a lot longer for us to finally get our heads out of our asses.”

“Probably,” Steve agreed.  He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he watched Tony get off the bed and walk over to his suitcase, rifling through its contents for his toothbrush.  The man was completely nude, save for the sock on his left foot.  It was a seemingly innocent picture until one took in Tony’s messy hair, the darkening bruise on his neck, and the light sheen of sweat drying on his skin. 

Steve felt warm all over at the realization that this was all his now.  He could kiss Tony knowing that Tony would wholeheartedly kiss him back, and hold him every night as they drifted off to sleep.  He could wake up with Tony curled in his arms every single morning for…

Steve didn’t want to say ‘ _forever_ ’ just yet, but he liked to think it would end up that way.

Steve stood and plucked a pair of boxer shorts out of his luggage and slipped it on.  He looked back at Tony and saw that he was already completely dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans, a plain gray t-shirt, and matching striped socks on his feet.  Nothing about the ensemble was particularly striking, but then again, Tony had the ability to make anything look high-end.

Steve hadn’t realized he was staring again until Tony tentatively called out his name.  Tony approached slowly, stopping within arm’s reach.  Steve wasted no time in grabbing him and pulling him into his arms, burying his face into the crook of Tony’s neck.

“You know I love you, right?” he said, his voice muffled by Tony’s t-shirt.   

“Yeah, I know,” Tony replied quietly.  His hands came up to rest at the base of Steve’s neck, his fingers playing at the short hairs there. “I love you, too.”

Steve straightened and found Tony giving him a smile that was undoubtedly a mirror-image of the one on Steve’s own face. “Are you free tonight?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Do you want to go out to dinner with me?”

Tony came up on the tips of his toes and pressed a sweet kiss to Steve’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
>  
> 
> [Here is the link to my post on tumblr if you feel so inclined to share it. :D](http://brandnewfashion.tumblr.com/post/134349098943/any-other-way-of-loving)


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